


You've Got Something

by EzraTheBlue



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: Baker and Mechanic, Fluff, Fluff and Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Modern AU, Slow Burn, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-09 20:48:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 49
Words: 265,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7816717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzraTheBlue/pseuds/EzraTheBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A baker with flour on his cuffs and apron meets a mechanic with grease on his face. Between friends, exes, work, and circumstance, things get messy from there. </p><p>What started as a fluffy set of short pieces evolves into a fluffy serial. Based off of an idea and sketches by BaronVonRiktenstein! Rating may change as the story goes on, and tags will be added as they become relevant.</p><p>Side pairings include: Kougaiji/Yaone/Dokugakuji, Koumyou Sanzo/Goudai Sanzo; Hazel Grouse/Nenegatty Hawk; Past Nii Jianyi/Cho Hakkai</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You've Got Something

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BaronVonRiktenstein](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaronVonRiktenstein/gifts).



> I refer to this as the Messy!AU. The original idea was that of a baker and mechanic in a relationship, and the mechanic shows up with grease on his face, and the baker pops out from behind his counter with flour and batter on him, and it sounded adorable. I wrote a few short bits of fluff between them, intending to keep it light, but then I started thinking.
> 
> And suddenly I had a Coffee Shop AU, except it's a bakery and an auto repair place, and plans for things to get messy. 
> 
> Expect fluff intertwined with drama and possibly a little bit of angst somewhere in the future. Enjoy!
> 
> The original idea came from BaronVonRiktenstein! Thank you very much for letting me play with your idea.

“Excuse me?” A voice as clear as the tone of a tuning fork echoed through the shop, bouncing off the tagboard posts covered in pegs holding tools and through to the dirt-washed skylights. Gojyo, flat on his back under Mr. Katsuya’s Accord, heard him, but groaned under his breath and glowered up at the stubborn bit of grime on the brake line. He knew he had to get this done by two or risk another chew-out session from Mrs. Katsuya, so he crossed his fingers that Goku might be able to handle whatever the walk-in needed, shoved a strand of hair from his face, and scooted a little deeper under the car to try to find the gripe.

Ever since Gojyo’s business partner had “backed out” three months into cutting the ribbon and took a cool three-thou of their first profits with him (Gojyo had a feeling the dumb ass had gotten himself into trouble and skipped town), he’d done everything he could to make the business work with just him and his apprentice. The past eight months had been a little rocky, but he’d been holding on by the skin of his ass, pouring himself into it six days out of the week. It hadn’t left him much time for much more than work, or enough energy for much more than a drink at the pub down the road after he closed the shop, but it was better than his teenage delinquency. Sure, he got laid back in the days of his fake I.D. and bad pawn shop reputation, but a day of good hard work felt way better. He felt like if he could get one good break, one little miracle to prove his worth, he might really have something here.

“Excuse me, is anyone there?”

Didn’t stop him from grunting his frustration at the customer calling in again. Damn it, where was Goku? Gojyo slid out from under the car to answer: “Yeah, I hear you, hang on a sec!” He scooted out and carefully worked up to his feet, smeared his hands off on his royal blue jumpsuit, and fix his hair again back into the ponytail he kept it in while working. He kept trying to shove the loose strands of his hair back behind his ears as he tromped up through the garage to the front of the shop. Goku wasn’t there, his half-eaten Honey Bun sitting on top of the plastic wrapping and a note left in front of the register reading “Bathroom break, back in 5!” Instead, resplendent in the bottles of oil and wiper fluids in the little shop, a tall, thin man in a dusty green apron fretted nervously where he stood.

“I’m terribly sorry to interrupt–” Gojyo could hardly hear what he was saying, too stuck on taking him in. He had a pale face framed with dark, straight hair, his cheeks smudged with flour that disguised the dusty-rose blush in his cheekbones, decorated with dark-rimmed glasses that framed the greenest eyes he’d ever seen. Shit, he’d been single too long if he was getting hung up on just how pretty the guy was, how smoothly and elegantly his mouth moved, and just how cute it was that his eyes darted to and fro in his panic. Gojyo realized that he hadn't been listening to what he’d been saying when the man stopped and stared expectantly.

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry. I’ve been running on nothing but coffee since six.” Gojyo chuckled and leaned onto the desk. “Can you give me the short version?”

“Ah.” The other man nervously wrung his hands. “I have a delivery to make and my car won’t start. It’s urgent, it’s a wedding cake and the bride is, er, a nightmare, and if the cake is late, then I’m afraid of what she’ll do to my business.”

Gojyo frowned, then glanced at the man’s apron again. The embroidered logo read Mille-Feuille and Flowers, with a slice of cake adorned with pink and purple flowers. He remembered seeing an advertisement for the grand opening three months ago. “Aw, man, and you don’t have a spare car?”

“My juniors have to stay at the shop while I handle this personally, and though my business partner could drive, he’s an hour away at best.” The man wrung his hands. “If you can do something, anything to get me mobile again, I, oh, my, I’ll repay you somehow.”

Gojyo took the man in again, then nodded. “You know, I get ya. I’m the owner of a small business myself. Let me get my tools and a few supplies. Where’s the car?”

The bakery was less than a block away, close enough that Gojyo could swing his loaded toolbox at his side all his way down. Once they passed the bakery, Gojyo could have kicked himself for missing it, with its windows stacked high with elegant cupcakes and a tiered cake, dressed with a cascade of sculpted hydrangeas, the kind of confection that was the envy of wedding celebrations anywhere. If Gojyo had paid attention, he probably would have made a point of stopping in for one of those Mega-Muffins sitting in the back pantry cabinet long ago. The cake the baker had been talking about was visible on the counter, a gaudy sculpture of hexagonal cakes decorated with ribbons and crystals and an ornate topper of someone’s initials. “It tastes much better than it looks,” the baker said when he caught Gojyo staring, putting on a weak, wan smile, then gestured to a Smart Car parked around the corner. “Here. The engine turns over, but I can’t get it to start. I’ve tried everything I know, but–”

“Say no more. Could you pop the hood for me?”

The baker got in the car and pulled a lever, opening the hood. Gojyo squinted down into the engine, then grinned and leaned around towards the window. “Hey, mister, when I give you the sign, crank the gas for me.” He opened up the throttle and sprayed a little starter fluid in, then gave the baker a thumbs-up around the hood. The gas cranked, the engine wheezed, and Gojyo looked but saw no spark. “Hah, yeah, easy.” He reached in and pulled out the spark plug. The ends were all burnt out. “This little baby chose one hell of a day to give out.” He dug down into his tool box and found a spare spark plug, then compared sizes. Then, he held it out around the hood so the baker could see it. “It’s not an exact match, but it’s close enough. Bring her in once you get back from your delivery, yeah? Turn the car off, let me plug her in.”

Gojyo waited for the engine to settle into silence before replacing the plug, then closed the hood and gave the baker another thumbs-up. “Try it now!” The baker turned the key, and Gojyo heard the little car hum to life. He saw the baker slump with relief in the driver’s seat, face lifted heavenwards with a delighted smile. Shit, happiness looked too good on him. The baker turned the car off and climbed out.

“It’s running. Goodness, I can’t thank you enough–” Gojyo saw those eyes turn, as his focus darted to the patch on his breast. “Gojyo. It’s Gojyo, yes?”

“It sure is.” Gojyo smeared his greasy hand off and held it out. “And if you have time to share the pleasure?”

The baker enthusiastically shook his hand, clasping both lithe palms around Gojyo’s thick hand. “Hakkai, Cho Hakkai.” He glowed when he smiled for real, those green eyes lit up and warm, his pink mouth curved into a kind, deep crescent. The smile faltered, and Hakkai reached for his face. “Ah, I’m sorry, but you have something…”

Gojyo realized what Hakkai meant, and fished a rag from his breast pocket. He was so used to the feeling of soot and grease on himself that he forgot it was there. Hakkai, however, took a tissue from his pocket and dabbed Gojyo’s cheek clean. “There.” He smiled again, brighter than ever. “Is that what my savior looks like?”

“Uh, probably.” Gojyo chuckled nervously and rubbed the other side of his face, feeling the heat roiling in his cheeks and making his belly do flip-flops. “Uh, you, uh, you too.” He scratched his own face over the smudge of flour dusting Hakkai’s cheek.

“Oh?” Hakkai flipped his apron up and dusted his face, but the flour on his apron only smeared it around and made it worse. “Ah, dear.” He coughed and swept some of the flour away from his face with his hand. “I suppose, considering all the flour I wallow in day after day, it’s not unusual that I’m in bloom.”

Gojyo couldn’t help himself from snickering. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. We both got jobs that get us a little messy. It’s good work, isn’t it?”

“It is. And thank you.” Hakkai clapped his hands together, then dug a chef’s hat from his apron pocket and tugged it down over his hair. “I must run, but I owe you, sincerely. I work every day but Sunday and Tuesday from four in the morning until four in the afternoon, so come by any time I’m in and I’ll return the favor.”

“Yeah, I gotta run too, I got a car waiting on the lift.” Gojyo sighed, deflating a little. Hakkai, however, still smiled.

“Thank you.” He tucked a bit of stray hair under his hat, then patted Gojyo’s hand where it hung at his side. “I’ll see you, alright?” Gojyo barely had time to edge in a languid “take it easy, man,” before Hakkai hustled back inside to get his cake loaded, calling for his assistants. Gojyo walked away, back towards his shop. Hakkai’s flour-dusted face and his sugar sweet smile hung in Gojyo’s immediate memory like so much spun sugar drifting in the breeze.

Maybe he had something here.


	2. Sweets for the Sweet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gojyo wasn't sure Hakkai meant it when he offered him a reward. Hakkai proves him wrong.

**2: Sweets for the Sweet**

“Gojyo!” Goku’s voice rang and Gojyo had to remember not to sit up immediately, because he’d hit his head on the underside of a wheel assembly before and he didn’t want to get his head X-rayed again. Besides, the axle was bent, and he couldn’t risk his hard head making it worse. (Or keeping him from repairing it, either/or.) He slid out first and wiped the soot from his mouth.

“What?” He spat to the side and squinted towards the sunlight beaming in through the skylight, as Goku, his apprentice and assistant, hung in the doorway.

“You got a customer!” He grinned broadly – the kid never did things by half measures. “A cute one!”

“Oh?” Gojyo grinned and wiggled an eyebrow. “So, is this your kind of cute or my kind of cute?” He made a point of fixing his hair in its ponytail and smearing his face clean, as Goku guffawed and rolled his eyes.

“Both, duh. Everyone at the bakery down the street is super hot, y'know? I’m scared to even go in ‘cause I just know I’m gonna make myself look stupid in front of the pretty girl at the cash register or the huge hot guy hauling cookies out of the oven.” Goku snickered and stuffed his hands in his jumpsuit pockets. Goku was learning the trade as Gojyo’s apprentice, and the kid was pretty handy, but their alternate cashier could only come in some days, meaning Goku spent most of his time at the counter unless Gojyo really wanted him to see something. He seemed proud to wear the uniform, anyway. Gojyo lumbered to the door, his steel-toed boots heavy on his feet, and mussed the kid’s unkempt chestnut-brown hair.

“Yeah, monkeywrench like you would just screw it up.” He gave his head a good, hard pat, and shuffled past him towards the shop. Goku spun around and chased him.

“Quit callin’ me a monkeywrench!” He tackled Gojyo, and Gojyo, laughing, stumbled through the door to the shop while trying to pry him off.

The kid was only a little younger than Gojyo, but Gojyo hadn’t had a little brother until someone assigned Goku here six months ago. He got lost in tussling with the little brat until someone cleared his throat, and what Goku said actually got through to Gojyo. 'The bakery down the street.’

“Gojyo?” Those tones, sweet like syrup, struck Gojyo like a chime, and Gojyo spun on his heel with Goku still hanging off his shoulders to see Hakkai waiting, a thin hand over his wide mouth and a box sitting on the counter. Gojyo’s stomach fluttered as if his batteries had died and were trying to restart. He hadn’t seen Hakkai since last week, when he’d restarted his little car, but he’d thought about him a lot. A lot. Seeing him for real took the elation he got at those fleeting memories and kicked it into overdrive.

“Hakkai! Glad to see ya!” He leaned into the counter as if Goku weren’t pretending to strangle him. “How’s the car?”

Hakkai smiled demurely, clearly following Gojyo’s lead and ignoring Goku. “It’s just fine, though I’d hoped to set up an appointment for you to put the correct spark plug in. I haven’t yet received an invoice, however–”

“I didn’t charge you.” Gojyo set his hands on his hips, but Goku let go all at once and slammed his hip to the counter to lean over and glare up at him.

“Why not? We need the money, idiot!”

Gojyo placed his hand on Goku’s head and torqued it towards Hakkai. “Goku, this is Hakkai. He owns that bakery down the street. Hakkai, this’s my apprentice.”

Goku took a long look at Hakkai, and stage-whispered, “He’s really pretty,” as if Hakkai couldn’t hear him. From the rosy color that suddenly dusted over Hakkai’s cheeks, he certainly had.

“Goku, the pleasure’s mine.” His focus shifted back to Gojyo as Gojyo shoved Goku back, but just as quickly to the floor at his feet. “And Gojyo, I really would like to see an invoice. You saved my business from what would likely have been a very nasty online review and my reputation from a one-way-ticket to the trashcan; paying you for your services is the least I can do.” Hakkai patted the box in front of him. “That, and this.” He indicated the box he’d brought, white with pink flowers like polka-dots printed in a scatter over the top around Hakkai’s shop logo. Hakkai pushed it towards him, and Gojyo opened it up.

Treasure couldn’t glow so golden, and certainly wouldn’t smell so sweet. The box was loaded with muffins of all varieties, blueberry, cinnamon swirl, pistachio, each labeled with a toothpick holding a flag in ornate script, as well as a set of four cinnamon rolls. Hakkai giggled and indicated the cinnamon rolls. “I believe I noticed your apprentice’s taste in confections last I was here. These don’t contain sodium benzoate or xanthan gum.”

Goku swiftly nipped around Gojyo again and grabbed two cinnamon rolls. “These look way better than the ones in the vending machine!” He shoved one in his mouth, and tears of joy came to his eyes. “Mey faste metter foo!”

Hakkai, ever the picture of class, stifled a giggle into the back of his hand. “I’m glad you’re enjoy them. I had them specially baked this morning. In fact, everything in the box is freshly-baked today.” He glanced up to Gojyo, a knowing gleam in his eyes. “Truthfully, I’m almost glad you didn’t come for your reward. That helped me to make sure it was all as fresh as it could possibly be.”

“Wow,” was all Gojyo could say, and his stomach growled, as if to remind him he’d skipped lunch again. “I mean it, wow.”

Hakkai was still blushing, and couldn’t quite make eye contact. “Yes, when you said, last time I was here, you had nothing but coffee since six that morning, I wondered if you did that every day, and I thought you deserved nothing short of a calorie-rich treat.”

“Holy cow, dude.” Goku poked his head out from behind Gojyo again, his hands empty and flecks of frosting on his upper lip and cheek. “This is fantastic, thank you so much!”

“You’re welcome,” Hakkai said, but Gojyo snorted.

“Kid, go take a look at that rear axle on the Mazda 3 in there, see if you can’t get the bolt on the passenger side wheel loose while the adults talk shop.”

Goku jumped a little, brushing crumbs from his lips as he jogged back into the garage. “You got it!” Gojyo waited for the kid to vanish down into the bay, before turning back to Hakkai with a charming grin. Hakkai, of course, was apprising Gojyo behind his glasses.

“So… he thinks I’m pretty.”

“Yeah, kid’s so pan he’s a skillet, and in his head, he makes everyone hot.” Gojyo smirked to himself; he’d had to fend Goku’s crush off when they’d met – Gojyo wasn’t interested in some twenty-year-old who acted like he was twelve half the time, teacher-student relationships were a real fast way to end their working relationship, and Goku had pretty quickly figured out their personalities would clash anyway. Hakkai, luckily, giggled at Gojyo’s joke.

“I should be flattered.” He then folded his hands on the counter, and his gaze followed them. “I… should ask why you never stopped by.”

Gojyo felt the change in his demeanor, as if Hakkai had sucked some of the light from the windows. He looked like he’d deflated, like a shadow had overtaken him. “Uh. I honestly didn’t know you meant it.”

That was one way to put it. Gojyo hadn’t thought Hakkai meant it, some people would say anything when they were desperate. There was also the terror that came with trying to talk to someone a second time when he’d found them so charming the first time. Hakkai, so attractive, so charming he could never screw up when talking to someone he really liked, now pouting in everything but expression, let his back slump.

“Oh, but I did.” Hakkai turned back towards him, his hands wrung again. “I had hoped… I supposed I’d wanted to see you again. I do understand, of course.”

“No, you know what? I’m the asshole here.” Gojyo thumbed his chest. “You did invite me, I was the jerk who didn’t show up. That’s on me, and I’m way sorry. Believe me, I totally wanted your sweets.” Gojyo reached for one of the muffins – lavender lemon, so the cute little flag said – and took a bite, chewed and swallowed. It was heaven on the tongue, the crumb loose and fluffy, the flavor coating his tongue and soothing his throat all the way down. Glory, heaven in a single sweet bite. “Aw, man, and it really would'a been worth my while if I had.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and grinned. “It’s fantastic. Thanks for bringing this by.”

Hakkai had brightened, his expression warm as if bathed in summer sun. “Perhaps you could stop by in the mornings, when they’re fresh out of the oven. We have coffee, as well. If you come in when I’m there, it’s on the house.”

Gojyo’s stomach flipped, and he leaned over the counter towards him. “F'real?”

“Er, yes. Very much for real.” The casual speech sounded uncanny from Hakkai’s elegant mouth, but he smiled nonetheless. “You’ll think me silly, but I’d rather like to see you again.”

Gojyo felt a whirlpool churn in his chest, excitement beating against the confines of his ribcage like a field of butterflies frightened into motion by a single footstep into their view. “You don’t say.” He nervously rubbed the back of his head, a sheepish grin creeping into place. “I guess… would it be weird if I said I wanted to see you again too?”

Hakkai wrung his hands again. “Not at all.”

Gojyo went for it, and leaned on his elbow, towards him. “And what if I said I thought you were good-looking, too?”

“I’d say I wouldn’t mind, as long as you have nothing against skillets.” Hakkai winked, and put a hand next to Gojyo’s arm. Gojyo grinned, because damn, that was easily the least awkward “Hey, are you into dudes?” conversation he’d ever had.

“Nah, not at all.” He lowered his arm as he leaned back, but his hand landed over Hakkai’s on the counter. Hakkai didn’t move away, no, he edged in a step closer and ran his thumb over the inside of Gojyo’s hand. Gojyo felt the stupid smile come back, and lost himself in Hakkai’s warm expression.

Then, Hakkai withdrew and yanked a kerchief from his pocket. “Do hold still.” He rubbed the kerchief to Gojyo’s cheek, and embarrassment flushed through Gojyo when he saw the grime that came away. It vanished when Hakkai leaned in and kissed him on the cheek instead, and he felt himself go all red, redder than his hair, hotter than the afternoon sun. Hakkai, still smiling, backed away again. “For breakfast pastries, muffins are fresh on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, croissants on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, and I prepare an assortment of danishes every morning in addition to the daily cakes and sweets. Come and see me. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Gojyo, dumbstruck as Hakkai retreated another step, then turned around. His steps were a little floaty, and damn, Gojyo envied how he could hold down his excitement almost seamlessly. Breathless, he managed to call after him, “Hey, don’t forget to bring your car in! I’m gonna special-order the factory spark plug for you right now, so, uh…” Hakkai glanced back, his glasses catching the light, and he beamed.

“I’ll need an oil change, too. Promise you’ll take care of me?”

Gojyo couldn’t answer, he just kept his stupid smile and nodded a few times. Hakkai waved with his fingers, giggling behind his glasses, and let the door fall shut behind him. Gojyo found himself still grinning at the shop bell as it chimed, until Goku hopped back in, mopping his sweaty brow and smearing grease from his fingers.

“Got the screw loose. Nothing a good wrench and a lot of elbow grease couldn’t fix.” He grinned at Gojyo and grabbed another muffin out of the box. “So, uh, what’d you and Hakkai talk about?”

“Stuff. Things.” Gojyo put his elbow on Goku’s head, pinning him in place. He was still affixed to the last place he’d seen Hakkai. “I think I like that guy.”

“Yeah,” Goku chuckled, and took a huge bite out of the double-dutch chocolate chip muffin in his hand, as Gojyo brought his hand to rest on the one clean spot on his cheek and swore an oath to himself to never wash that spot again. “Me foo.”


	3. Stepping In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gojyo gets the guts to visit Hakkai's bakery... only to find a roadblock threatening to turn him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first chapter where the underlying plot starts to kick in. It's subtle, but it's begun. Enjoy!

**3: Stepping In**

Gojyo waited for a day when there were no cars with urgent deadlines and when the cashier could cover them for a little while so he could drag Goku over to Hakkai’s bakery. It happened to be a foggy, grayish Saturday, but Gojyo scrubbed all the oil off of his hands and slipped out the back just to circle the block and peer into the front window from across the street. The second they got there, Goku ‘eep'ed and hid behind Gojyo.

“Ohh, gosh, oh jeez, it’s him.”

Gojyo didn’t recognize the man at the counter, but it was pretty weird to see a guy in a three piece suit at the counter of a bakery. “You know him?”

“He’s the cutest guy at the store, but he’s always scowling, so I’m way scared to talk to him!” Goku fidgeted, twisting his neck left and right as if looking for the camera on a TV prank show. “No way, I can’t do this.”

“Goku. Monkeybrains. Hakkai promised free coffee and maybe pastry.” He rolled his eyes but fluffed the kid’s hair. “I’ve been doing oil changes for four hours and really need a pick-me-up. Are you gonna let one good-but-pissy-looking guy get between you and Hakkai’s goodies?”

Goku seemed to mull this over, sucking his lower lip, then muttered, “Pretty sure you already called dibs on Hakkai’s goodies.” He grinned. “But I do really want an eclair.”

“See?” Gojyo grinned back. “And I could kill for a coffee. Let’s see about getting past that guy.”

They crossed the street and into the shop side by side. A bell above the door jingled cheerily as they passed under it and into the store. The store itself was filled with tables of baskets containing fresh-baked breads in paper bags, four-packs of muffins in paper cups, croissants, biscuits, strudels, turnovers, all labelled with Hakkai’s neat handwriting. The fresh mega muffins that Gojyo coveted were behind the counter, though, as well as an ornate-looking coffee machine with brass-colored knobs and levers around a shiny glass pot. The man at the counter, looking ready to keel over out of boredom, let his gaze follow them as they approached the counter, and folded his arms as Goku stepped up.

“What do you want?”

Some customer service. Goku, to his credit, nervously cleared his throat and pointed behind the scowling cashier. “I want two chocolate walnut muffins, and six of those cherry-frosted donuts, and an eclair.”

The cashier raised an eyebrow and studied Goku’s face. Then, to Gojyo’s surprise, he muttered, “There’s a special if you get four muffins, any flavor. You’ll save fifty cents on the four. You wanna double the muffins?”

Goku beamed. “Hell yeah! Two cinna-crunch muffins, please!”

The man in the suit turned and boxed Goku’s selection into paper bags and a small box, then turned to Gojyo. His face hardened as he looked him over, but he motioned between them. “You two together?”

Gojyo knew he’d regret it, but went for it anyway. “Yeah, I’ll cover the kid today.” Goku squealed, as Gojyo looked over the menu. He read some of the coffee drink descriptions, and finally shrugged. “Uh, I guess I just want a mocha latte, one sugar.”

The cashier, again, raised an eyebrow. “You guess?”

Gojyo felt his cheeks turn red. “Hey, usually I just get black coffee, but I like it with chocolate syrup sometimes, and you don’t have just that.” Goku guffawed something about girly drinks behind him, and Gojyo jabbed an elbow back at him. Just before the cashier turned on the machine, Gojyo realized he should add something: “Oh, and Hakkai said he’d cover me, so if all that gets me is a plain black coffee, that’s cool, too.”

The cashier stopped cold with his hand on the lever, then heaved a sigh that carried the exasperation of someone who’d chased an oasis through the desert only to find a parking lot. “That gets you nothing.” He spun around, his scowl etched deep. “Either we pretend you didn’t just try to bilk a free coffee out of my bakery, or you and your friend drop everything and leave.”

A bolt of anger shot through Gojyo, making his face hot. “No, listen, Hakkai said he was the owner, and he said he’d treat me to coffee if I came in and visited! We’re paying for the treats, I know you guys are a small business too, but Hakkai said–”

“Hakkai didn’t tell you shit. Quit throwing his name around.” The cashier drew himself up, but that only made it more evident that he was still smaller than Gojyo by a few inches, and significantly more slight. He still held himself like a lion, teeth bared. “If you knew a damn thing about Hakkai, it’s that he doesn’t go out and you’re damn lucky to even see him out of the kitchen.” Gojyo’s back arched as the cashier’s nostrils flared. His every caustic word dripped with holier-than-thou attitude, making it clear that even though he was shorter than him, he was still looking down on Gojyo. “Even if you did meet him, he likely wouldn’t even know you if he looked you in the face.” The cashier crossed his arms. “Now, how about you haul your grubby ass –”

Gojyo was about to wind back and punch him, but suddenly, the door behind the cashier flew open, and in a puff of powder and a massive waft of air that smelled of warm sugar, Hakkai emerged from the kitchen, his apron and arms streaked with Jackson Pollock-streaks of pink batter. “Goodness, Sanzo, don’t eject him! Gojyo, I’m terribly sorry!”

This got the cashier – Sanzo, Gojyo supposed – to stop cold and purse his lips. “You mean you actually know him.”

“Yes, he fixed my car last week!” Hakkai’s cheeks were pink, he wrung his hands with anxiety. “He left his work and came here on my whim so I could make the delivery, so I promised that whenever he came in, I’d give him coffee and a breakfast pastry. Do you treat everyone like this?” He cringed, despondent. “Gracious–” Then, he motioned to Sanzo. “Please, I’ll serve him myself. Why don’t you, er, check the inventory for a minute, yes, and I’ll–” His gaze flew back to Gojyo, as Sanzo backed off and propped himself against the door to the kitchen, an implacable scowl firmly set in place. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think–”

“Hey.” Gojyo held his hands up. Goku tittered behind him through a mouthful of donut, and Gojyo ignored him. “I get it. It’s cool. You guys probably have to deal with folks trying to get free coffee and samples all day.”

Hakkai incrementally relaxed. “I wouldn’t know, I’m only told; I’m mostly back-end. I heard you come in and wanted to serve you myself, but I thought you’d be longer deciding. Please, Gojyo, anything you want.”

Sanzo grunted from his place, and Gojyo shot him a glower, then glanced back to Hakkai. “I guess I just wanted coffee with chocolate.” He cleared his throat, and hopefully some of the gruffness, and put on a smile for Hakkai. “I guess if it’s anything I want, can I have it with more coffee, less milk, and no added sugar? The chocolate's sweet enough.”

Hakkai’s features brightened. “I can do you one better.” He turned to the machine, and with a flick of a few levers, filled a paper cup with coffee from two separate faucets, then reached down into a refrigerator under the counter for the chocolate sauce. He passed it to Gojyo with a winning smile. “I call it a mocha black eye. One part coffee, one part espresso, one part chocolate.”

Gojyo enthusiastically took it, and took a swill. It was smooth and strong, and perfect. “Yeah, that is exactly what I wanted. Thank you.”

“Good. I’m glad.” Hakkai seemed to have calmed from his panic, enough to step to one side and gesture. “Gojyo, Goku, this is my business partner, Sanzo.”

Sanzo grunted and flapped a hand. Goku waved. “Nice to meetcha!” Gojyo merely tried not to let his lip curl. How had a nice guy like Hakkai fallen in with a prick like that?

“Sanzo,” Hakkai went on, “handles the numbers, inventory, ordering, payroll, and some of the management duties, particularly front-end customer service. He also cashiers when someone calls out. I handle menus, of course, and the bakery itself, including our bakery staff. That’s just how we manage.” He then turned to Sanzo. “Gojyo owns the garage two blocks away. Goku is his apprentice.”

Sanzo grunted something that sounded vaguely like, “Pleasure,” and Hakkai whipped back around to them. “Gojyo, now that Sanzo is aware of our arrangement, please come any time. I’m always happy to see you.”

Gojyo glanced to Sanzo again, still sulking against the wall, and curled his lip. “Tell you what, do you one better.” He grabbed the order paper from across the counter and dragged it close, then snatched up the pen. “Gonna place an order. One Hakkai, for a party for two, at seven tonight. I know this great little micro brew-pub that has great beer and tasty food. Just you and me, my treat.” He scribbled it down and held the pad out to Hakkai, grinning. “Think you can fill the order, or is that too short of notice?”

Under the flour smudging Hakkai’s face, his cheeks went pink. “Oh…” He touched a hand to his lips, then accepted his pad back. “Why, I imagine we’ve room in our schedule to squeeze you in. Is this for delivery?”

“I can pick up. Just tell me where.”

Gojyo felt a thrill run through him as Hakkai wrote down his address and phone number, because he’d had no idea that would work, and Hakkai handed the page back to him. “Seven tonight.” He beamed. “Your order will be ready.”

“Fan-damn-tastic.” Gojyo tucked the note in his undershirt pocket, smiling at his feet, then turned back to Hakkai. “Thanks. You’ve really made my day now. We prob'ly ought'a head back to the shop, but I’ll see you in a little while.” Then, he noticed something. “Ah, and–” He reached out and swiped a bit of batter off of Hakkai’s face with his index finger. “Got it.” He cleaned his finger with his tongue, and beamed at Hakkai as Hakkai, crimson now, touched where Gojyo had brushed against him. “It’s tasty, too. Cherry?”

“Grapefruit-cranberry.” Hakkai rubbed his cheek, eyes blown wide in a daze.

“Mm.” Gojyo had never thought he’d liked either of those things, and he was delighted to be wrong. He wondered what Hakkai added to make it sweet, or if that was just a little Hakkai magic. “Promise me you’ll let me try it, cooked.”

“Of course.”

With that, Gojyo snapped out his wallet and thrust enough cash towards Sanzo to pay for double what Goku had ordered. “Keep the change.” He grinned at Hakkai one last time, then walked back out, coffee in hand and Goku carrying his haul, as Hakkai vacantly waved across the counter. Sanzo waited until the bell had rung again to scoff and kick off the wall.

“Really? You start coming out of your shell, and it’s for him?”

“Sanzo, now. He just happened to be in the right place at the right time.” Hakkai tried to dust the color from his cheeks, then the batter from his arms, and avoided eye contact. “There’s something about him that clicks. I’d like to find out what it is.”

“I don’t like him.” Sanzo’s fist tightened around the money Gojyo gave him, but he chucked it in the tip jar. “Not at all.”

“Is that so?” Hakkai giggled. “We’ll just have to agree to disagree.” The bell chimed, and a few young women came in. “Ah, my. Do treat them better than you did him.”

“If I must.” Sanzo groaned and stepped back to the cash register as Hakkai ducked back into the bakeshop, tucking thoughts of Gojyo from his mind, but not his concern that Gojyo would linger in Hakkai’s mind, if not at his counter, for a good, long time to come.


	4. As Good As You Get

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gojyo takes Hakkai on their first date. It goes precisely as well as expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for blood towards the end of the chapter. Yeah, it's that kind of first date.

**4: As Good As You Get**

Gojyo didn’t own nice clothes, but he had things that were nicer. He had denims that didn’t have gaping holes in the crotch, and tees that weren’t stained. It might have been deceitful not to show Hakkai just how much of a mess he was behind his grease-stained jumpsuit, but hell, hopefully he’d have enough time to clean up his act a little before Hakkai made to look any closer. Putting on his best face was enough for now.

He had a car. It wasn’t much, a rattly old Nissan that he kept in good repair with spare parts and what spare time he had, but he vacuumed the floor, dusted the dash, and prayed the muffler could hold until after he paid the rent. He drove to the address Hakkai had given him and found a neat, precious little house nestled behind broad, branching trees and a manicured lawn, and Hakkai sitting on a glossy white porch, a book on his knee. Gojyo couldn’t help but noticed that said knee happened to be clothed in dark-wash skinny jeans that hugged Hakkai’s hips and legs in all the right ways, the ways that made Gojyo’s pants feel tight in the crotch. As Hakkai rose, though, he tamped it down and tried to ignore that he’d never been this hot for a guy before. Hakkai sauntered down the walk to meet Gojyo, and Gojyo pushed the passenger door open for him. “Nice place. You do the yard?”

Hakkai settled into the passenger seat and put his seat belt on, and explained, “There’s a neighborhood service, courtesy of the HOA, but I care for the garden.”

“Fantastic.” Gojyo put the car into gear, hiding a little cringe at the suddenly-obvious difference between their lifestyles. “How’s the rent?”

“I inherited the home. So, most reasonable, really.” Hakkai giggled, and Gojyo sank back into his seat as if he could melt into his own embarrassment.

“Guess ain’t nothin’ better than free, yeah?” He managed a watery smile, then turned his attention to the road.

Gojyo had haunted the pub down on Main Street back when he’d been a bastard, but it was one of the places where he’d tried to behave himself. If he’d gotten kicked out, he wouldn’t have had anywhere to drink. He hadn’t tried the food, couldn’t have afforded it, but it had always smelled like God had left his kitchen window open as if to taunt him with what he just couldn’t have. He had scrounged up every spare penny he could, every thin red cent he could shake out of the couch, and crossed his fingers that Hakkai didn’t have expensive tastes. Gojyo requested a booth near the bar, in the center of the action, where Hakkai could see their open air kitchen, and was duly rewarded. Hakkai’s eyes brightened as he took in the view of the stone oven and open grills, the cooks and the bartender (a tall, broad-shouldered guy with clay-toned skin and dreadlocks bound back under a red bandanna), and he beamed at Gojyo as he took up the menu.

“What a lovely view! I’ve never been to a place like this before. What sort of things do they have?” He flipped it over a few times, those fascinating green eyes darting left and right like birds across a treeline, and Gojyo smirked to himself, enjoying the view for himself.

“Little bit of everything, really.” He rested his palm on the table, his fingers inching towards Hakkai’s rolled napkin and his elbow rested on the surface. Hakkai was lit up warm pink in the candles and orange hanging torches, the vee of his collar revealing toned, smooth skin, his hair combed into a dark wave split across his forehead, looking like a watercolor right off of an artist’s pad titled _“Gorgeous Guy on Date #1.”_   “I usually come for the beer.” He tore his eyes away from drinking in Hakkai to gesture to a room visible through floor-to-ceiling windows, displaying massive copper vats that Gojyo knew to be percolating away with local, organic barley and hops, and whatever other magic this place used on their liquor.

Hakkai tipped his head around to look at the brewery, then back to Gojyo. “Do you drink?”

There was a cold sliver of ice in his words, and Gojyo nearly shivered. “Uh.” Lying would be stupid. “Yeah. I mean, not every night, not like when I was a dumbass kid who thought getting wasted was, like, an epic good time, but I like a beer or two sometimes. I got better taste nowadays, so I can’t do it as often.” He checked over the beer menu, then pointed out a few. “Yeah, see, nice stuff, these. Just enough bitter, but still plenty sweet. But at five a glass, versus five for a six pack of panther piss, you can see where I might have to cut back.”

Hakkai had listened, his brow furrowed, but nodded. “I see. I don’t drink often, but I admit you tempt me. Perhaps you can recommend something lighter?”

Gojyo grinned with all of his teeth. “I’m a little less experienced with your ambers, but the waiters know everything. Would you like to ask one'a them?“

Gojyo flagged down a waiter, and from there, the evening was set into motion. Hakkai ordered something pale, and a salad decorated with tropical fruit and grilled shrimp, and Gojyo ordered the burger with the duck fat fries and a rich stout in a thick brown bottle. They spent the meal on small talk, on pleasantries, commenting on people watching, and losing themselves under the bustle of noise from the kitchen and the trickle of conversations around them and into one another.

"How’d you get into baking?” Gojyo was still smearing dipping sauce off of his plate with the last dregs of his fries (reluctant to waste even a scrap), as Hakkai shuffled his arugula through the drizzle of dressing.

“I’ve always enjoyed cooking, and the science of baking. It was a hobby when I was younger, and I put myself through college working in a grocery store bakery.” He smiled fondly at his own knuckles and turned his hands over. “I apprenticed in a bread shop when my class schedule changed.”

“You went to college? I didn’t know they had baking colleges.”

Hakkai furrowed his brow. “Many culinary schools have a pastry course. However, I initially attended college for pre-med.”

“Pre-med?” Gojyo wasn’t all that familiar with college terminology, but he knew that one. "You were gonna be a doctor?”

“Ahaha. You see how well it worked out.” Hakkai traced the rim of his glass, his gaze following his fingertip. “A few things happened before I graduated, which led me to decide I was happier in a bakery, and that was that. How about you?” He lifted his face to smile at Gojyo, the expression hard and determined. "What got you into auto repair?“

"Me? Ah, hell, you don’t mess around.” Gojyo chuckled and rubbed the back of his head. “Well, I like cars.”

“I suppose you ought to, considering.” Hakkai’s smile tilted with amusement. “But how did you start repairing them?” He leaned in, those green eyes traveling his face, and Gojyo swallowed hard, his mouth already dry. He couldn’t lie to that face.

“Uh, well, y'see, back when I was a kid, I wasn’t what you’d call a good kid.” Gojyo gripped his pint glass. “Troublemaker. Got expelled. Ran with the wrong crowd, the works. But some old guy caught me trying to boost a car out of his junker lot, and he chewed me and my bro out and said we had to work for him ‘til we paid off the damages to his fence and window. I kinda got into it from there. Turns out, I liked getting greasy and sweaty and making cars work. Me and a buddy decided to take some classes on car repair at a tech school, and then we opened our garage.”

“I didn’t know you had a business partner. Surely you don’t mean Goku?” Hakkai tapped his chin, and Gojyo scoffed and shook his head.

“Nah, Goku’s my apprentice. My partner only stuck around for the first three months, then he bounced.”

Gojyo almost wished he could bite those words back when he looked up, because Hakkai looked rather stunned, perhaps even piteous, hands clasped and knuckles white over his half-empty plate. Gojyo quickly laughed to dust it off. “But hey, screw him, right? He was fine with cars but sucked at handling business, and I’d been figuring he was skimming off the top for a couple of weeks when I started checking the books. Then one day, he stopped coming in, stopped answering his cell, and the company’s reserves vanished. I had to scratch the B off of B & G’s Auto Repair, but I’m better off without him.”

“You put such a brave face on it all. I’m surprised you can smile about it.” Hakkai was still covering his mouth, and the guilt that had been gnawing at Gojyo’s heart crept up into his throat.

“It ain’t a big deal. It was months ago.” He shrugged, but even he could feel how stiff it was. “I’m over it.”

“If you say so, but I know if it were me, I’d be out for the man’s blood.” Hakkai laced his fingers, then pressed his palms flat to the table. “Perhaps I should be impressed that you are so resilient.”

“It’s like I said.” Gojyo sat back and crossed his arms. “Banri was an ass, and even if I gotta work my fingers to the bone to make up for it, I’m glad he’s gone.”

“Really?”

The inquiring voice wasn’t Hakkai’s. Gojyo twisted his neck around to see the bastard himself, Banri, standing up a few tables away. Gojyo tensed all at once, his legs cramping, his shoulders raising, but he felt the air change near him and glanced back to see that Hakkai had wound himself tight, his smile taut, his arms rigid, his knuckles bone white where he clasped his fingers on the table. Banri swaggered over as if he hadn’t noticed their expressions shift, smirking, eyes narrowed. “You spouting that shit all over town, are ya? Come on, man, if you got beef, I’m hot enough to grill with ya.”

“Quit making up shitty slang. I don’t talk our business all over town.” Gojyo was biting his tongue to keep from spitting on him. He couldn’t look the asshole in the face, instead glaring just over his shoulder. “Of course, I thought you’d skipped town after you emptied out our escrow.”

“Fuck you, that was my escrow.” Banri planted his fist on the table between Gojyo and Hakkai, making their glasses and silverware shiver. Gojyo felt the table shake again, this time from Hakkai’s chair, and he shoved his chair back and stood.

“It was our business’ money. Ours.” There was a murmur of surprise from around them, but Gojyo ignored it, couldn’t care, and shook his head and hair. “Shit, if you were gonna get out, half of that money was mine, and you stole it and left me behind the eight ball. I don’t even give a shit, but my friend here asked.” He looked back around to Hakkai again as he watched from his seat, not moving. Banri noticed him, and scoffed.

“You think whining about your sob story’ll get you a pity fuck out of that wispy little prettyboy? Fuck, just tell him you give the best blow jobs in the tri-state and that you moaned like a whore when I came on your face.” He paused to grin at Hakkai. “Trust me, buddy, my sloppy seconds here are worth at least a couple good fucks before he gets boring.”

Hakkai rose, pushing his chair back. “I beg your pardon, but this table is set for two, and you were not invited.”

“'Beg your pardon?’ Excuse me, madam!” Banri laughed, hard and nasty, and Gojyo balled his hands into fists. He faintly realized they were being watched, their argument a spectator sport for the other bar patrons near them, but Banri ignored them all, sneering. “Jeez, what a prissy shit. Is this what you really want, Gojyo?” He smirked, just daring Gojyo to fire back, but Gojyo braced himself against the chair and put steel in his words.

“Better than a minute-man asshole who fucks me over a barrel and vanishes. Fuck off. I got nothing to say to you.”

Banri’s face twisted, and he shifted his shoulders back and dropped his voice to a growl. “Listen, you little punk, you stop talkin’ shit about me, not to this little faggot, not to nobody, you get it? I got –”

Gojyo’s body caught up with his brain, and suddenly he had a hand around Banri’s neck. “I don’t care what you’re goin’ for, you don’t say a damn word about Hakkai.”

Banri wound back to punch Gojyo, but as Gojyo dodged, there was a blur of movement from behind him and Hakkai was suddenly cracking Gojyo’s empty bottle over Banri’s head.

Gojyo knew how hard bottles were. He’d been told that the bottles that shattered in the movies were props, made to break, that real bottles were made of tougher stuff. However, Banri was shaking broken shards out of his hair and wobbling where he stood, and Gojyo’s jaw dropped. He never would have thought Hakkai had it in him to hit a man that hard. From the stares hitting them from every corner of the room, the college girls at the tables, the businessmen at the bar, even the bartender, nor had anyone else.

“Gojyo, we should pay our tab and leave.” Hakkai hooked his elbow in his sinewy hand, as Gojyo slowly let go of Banri. Banri’s eyeballs twirled a loop-de-loop in their sockets, and he dropped like a sack of rocks. Only then did Gojyo see a table full of toughs at the booth Banri had come from, and felt a twinge of fear pinch his stomach. Hakkai tugged his arm again. “We need to leave. I just assaulted a man, and we need to leave.”

Gojyo yanked a fifty out of his wallet and left it on the table, but as he and Hakkai moved for the door, the toughs Banri had come with all got up from their seats at once. The tension Gojyo had been feeling cranked up to eleven, and he shook Hakkai’s hand off.

“Get behind me. Get to the door. I’ll hold 'em off.” He readied himself, but Hakkai was still at his side, his back tense but his arms loose.

“I’m not leaving without you.” Hakkai smiled, the look a little deranged but just as giddy with good humor. “After all, you still have the car keys.”

Gojyo would have laughed if he weren’t about to piss himself. “I think I’m really starting to like you.”

In a second, the toughs were on them, growling threats and retribution, and Gojyo and Hakkai made to defend themselves, throwing punches and dodging left and right. Gojyo felt a fist catch his cheek, but it let him get between Hakkai’s gut and someone’s knee, so he took the hit and spun to punch back. The room erupted in shouting, but Gojyo heard one voice above the hubbub:

“Hello, 911?” Gojyo’s chest seized, and he spun around through the fray to look for the source. “My name’s Hazel Grouse, and I’d like to report an assault.” Gojyo seized one of the thugs nearest him, about to shout the man on his cell phone down, and he finally found him: a skinny, scrawny platinum-blond man, smirking from his bar stool with his mobile at his ear. The thugs seemed to slow their attack as his strident voice cut through the chaos. “A couple'a brutes just up and started beatin’ on a friendly gay couple for absolutely no good reason – would you? Could you? You’re fantastic, darlin’, I’ll have security hold 'em 'til you get here.” He hung up, then motioned to the bartender. “Gat? You heard me. Go on, now.”

The bartender, who, upon closer inspection, was seven feet tall and three hundred pounds of muscle, vaulted the bar and seized two of the men by their trunks. They roared and struggled, and Gojyo realized the thug he’d been holding off was winding up again, and he threw himself back into the fray to get between Hakkai and anyone trying to hurt him.

When all was said and done, the fat lady was singing in the form of police sirens and the four thugs who’d made for retribution against Gojyo and Hakkai were escorted to a police van. Banri was nowhere to be found when the dust settled – he’d likely woken up and crawled away the second he had the chance, Gojyo mused unhappily. He, meanwhile, was sitting next to Hakkai on the sidewalk under the twirling blue and red lights from the ambulance, waiting to be released. He was bruised from his neck down, his ribs and gut aching, and he’d gotten one good punch to the nose that had left it bleeding. The EMT said his nose wasn’t broken, so there was a silver lining. Hakkai, too, was roughed up, the buttons on his shirt torn off, his head bruised where his hair had been pulled, but he still smiled as he gave his report to the policeman standing over them.

“… If I could give you a better description of the fellow who started it, I would. My friend knew him at one point, so his information would be the best to go on. I’m terribly sorry for all the trouble.” Gojyo grimaced, because Hakkai’s pleasant voice and smile abraded him, making the guilt that had been seething under his skin seep out through his scrapes. As the police moved on to talk to the bartender, Hakkai tapped Gojyo’s arm. “It seems Mister Grouse, the gentleman who called the police, is a friend to the bartender and happens to be a local activist for gay rights, particularly with regard to the religious queer community. He’d been watching our initial exchange and thought to intervene. We’re both very lucky.”

“Yeah.” Gojyo hung his head. “Real lucky.” He sighed, and Hakkai’s smile drooped.

“Are you alright? Shall I ask the ambulance to take you to the hospital after all?”

“No, no, it ain’t that, I’ll be fine by morning.” Gojyo rubbed at his nose again, dried blood flaking off his skin, and he winced as he looked at his hands. “I’m just… shit, I… fuck, Hakkai, I’m real sorry.”

“Oh, no, how could you have known?” Hakkai put a hand over his mouth, then touched Gojyo’s shoulder. “You didn’t ask for this to happen.”

“Yeah, but we were havin’ a good time until it did. And my stupid miserable ex-partner threw that right out the window.” He put on a brave face, a grin so tightly wound he thought his jaw might snap. “So, hey, at least we had fun for a few minutes. That’s about all Banri said I was good for, anyway. Can I give you a ride home, or should I just call you a cab?”

Hakkai looked puzzled and dismayed, eyebrows wrought, lips pressed tight. “I had assumed you were my ride home, yes, or is there some problem?”

Gojyo grimaced under his smile, but sat back into the darkness of the shadow of the building. “I didn’t know if you’d still want to ride with me.”

“I do.” Hakkai frowned. “Is something wrong with your car? I’ll happily drive for our next date, if you’d like.”

Next date? Gojyo felt like someone had set off a firework at his feet, surprise radiating up through him. “What? You mean there’s gonna be a next date?”

“If you ask me, yes, of course.” Hakkai covered his mouth again, but even in the flashing lights, Gojyo could see his cheeks stained with a faint blush. “Unless… you’d rather not be with someone who can harm someone else so easily.”

“No, are you kiddin’? That was badass, man!”

“Then why would you think our first date would end up being our last?” Hakkai cocked his head, and Gojyo could only stare in disbelief.

“My ex-business partner-slash-a-guy-I-used-to-sleep-with showed up and got us involved in a fight. Plus, I’m basically a huge mess and I’ve been doing everything I can for the past six hours to be less of a wreck and I’m pretty sure I’m failing.” He rubbed the back of his head. “You’re the best guy who’s ever let me take him out, as good as I’ll ever get and better than I deserve. I’m a mess.”

“Oh, Gojyo.” Hakkai raised his palm to caress Gojyo’s cheek. “You may not have noticed, but I don’t mind a little mess.” He leaned in, tilting his head, and before Gojyo could even realize what that meant, Hakkai was kissing him, blood and scrapes and bruises and all. He could taste the iron tang of his own blood, the sweetness off of Hakkai’s tongue. When Hakkai ran his fingers over his face, his bruises stung, but the pain only made the warmth and eroticism of Hakkai’s tongue and lips more pleasant. He only relented when Gojyo swore he was drowning in Hakkai’s affection, and Gojyo could only sit back, shaking his head.

“Wow,” was all he could say, and couldn’t help but grin when he saw Hakkai wiping some of his blood off of his own nose. He laughed and started trying to clean the both of them off, slinging an arm around Hakkai’s shoulder to bring him closer. “Here I’m talking about me being messy. Damn, we make one hell of a pair, y'know?”

They sat there on the curb until the ambulances drove away, smearing Gojyo’s blood from both of their faces, talking, laughing: a mess, but happy.

* * *

Sanzo heard tuneless, atonal humming from the kitchen as he entered through the back door of the bakery, his paper under his arm. Hakkai and the bakers were all hard at work, but to Sanzo’s surprise, it was Hakkai who was making music as he hurried about, peering into the ovens, changing speeds on his mixers, tossing lavender into one bowl and halting another to dish its contents out into a muffin tin with a spring-loaded scoop. The languid girl who always wore her black hair in pigtails looked a little disgusted with him, but the brunette apprentice loading the bread into paper bags giggled as Hakkai rushed past her with trays balanced on both arms.

“Jeez, boss, must’ve been a real good date.”

“Yeah, sure,” Sanzo snapped, interrupting Hakkai’s reverie. Both apprentices scattered to their tasks, giving Sanzo wide berth. He stormed up to him, wagging the newspaper. “Good enough to make the goddamn local news.” He dropped the cover page and flipped to the second page of the local section, and read aloud: “Two men assaulted at a local brewpub, allegedly attacked for their sexuality. Four suspects arrested, one suspect fled the scene before police arrived.” Sanzo threw the paper down. “Tell me that wasn’t you.”

“I would, but I’m not a liar.” Hakkai dusted his hands on his apron, then hurried for the walk-in refrigerator. Sanzo stormed a few steps after him, waiting with his arms crossed. He could see the bloom of a purple bruise spreading under Hakkai’s shirt collar, but waited with his lips sealed in a tight scowl as Hakkai ducked into the walk-in and emerged with a cart loaded with trays of bear claws, croissants, and danishes, puffy, glossy, and ready to bake. Hakkai seemed to look past Sanzo as he loaded the car into the oven, still smiling blithely, but the moment Hakkai closed the oven, Sanzo seized his arm.

“What happened?”

“It’s just as it says in the paper, Sanzo.” Hakkai gripped Sanzo’s fingers and pried him off, then eased a step back. “Our date was interrupted.”

“Let me fucking rephrase; what did the idiot do?”

“He tried to protect me.” Hakkai drew himself up against Sanzo’s baleful expression. “He was dreadfully sorry it happened, since the instigator was apparently someone he knew.”

Sanzo huffed, arching his back. “This fuck’s turning you wrong-side-out. Making you give out free coffee and free food, getting you on the wrong side of the law – what’s next?”

“Sanzo, please.” Hakkai put a hand over Sanzo’s, and Sanzo grunted and jerked his hands away. “He’s a good man. He’s rough around the edges, but he’s a sweetheart. This won’t be anything like before.”

“It better not be. I’m not watching you sink that low again.” Sanzo whipped away and marched off. Hakkai sighed in his wake, but started humming as the doors to the front of the house swung shut behind him.

Sanzo tried to put it out of his mind – maybe it was as innocent as Hakkai said, an infatuation with a perfectly friendly man, albeit one he thought a prick – and got onto setting up the coffee percolator, but halted when he heard the unmistakable jingle of the shop phone ringing. He grunted and glanced at his watch. Six a.m. They didn’t open for another hour. Nobody needed cake that desperately. He ignored the call until it went to message, and Sanzo listened over the grumble of the coffee grinder as the machine picked up:

“ _Hakkai, you know how rude it is to ignore my number._ ” Sanzo dropped his measuring cup and spun around, scowling at the speaker. That was a voice he’d never wanted to hear again, one that oozed smug self-assurance, command, demand, and mirror-like ice all at once, yet he found himself marching over to their answering machine to scowl at the speaker. “ _I heard you were in a spot of trouble, and I wanted to be sure you were alright._ ”

“Bullshit, his name wasn’t in the paper.” Sanzo clenched his fists so hard his fingers hurt. “You son of a bitch, how?”

“ _Call me back. You have my number._ ” The man on the other end hung up. Sanzo found himself shaking.

“Like hell.” He slammed his palm over the delete button, wishing he could do worse to the damned machine without Hakkai scolding him. Hakkai poked his head into the storefront as the machine rewound over the message.

“Did someone call?”

“No.” Sanzo crossed his arms. “Get back to it. I’ll make sure your stupid boyfriend’s coffee is ready.” He whirled around back to the percolator, even as Hakkai demurred with a soft laugh and a 'my, one date doesn’t mean he’s my boyfriend,’ and Sanzo glowered at the answering machine one more time.

Sanzo didn’t like Gojyo, but damn if he wasn’t an improvement over the source of that voice.


	5. Sizzling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanzo is convinced to have a conversation with Goku. What he hears surprises him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's official. This story will have 393 as a side pairing. Pansexual!Goku and DiscreetlyGay!Sanzo ahoy!

**5:**   **Sizzling**

Customers chattering in happy voices milled around the shop, weaving between baskets of bread and rolls, housewives gabbing at one another about “Oh, that was so good last time!” and “We should really try the cakes, they’re so pretty!” A typical Sunday morning for the shop. Sanzo, for his part, could easily tell each of them which breads had gotten Hakkai’s favor in the proof box, which rolls were fresh baked today and which would be donated to the soup kitchen tomorrow, and which cakes were the best liked (because every single one was delicious), but as he leaned against the back wall and stared out over the register and the candy jars decorating the counter with his usual ennui, nobody asked him. Instead, they made conversation with chatty, cheerful Houmei, and Sanzo minded the Point-Of-Service numbers on his cell phone and waited for someone to order a coffee drink. He had to keep half an ear on the phone, of course, just to make sure nobody unwanted got through on the line.

“Oh, Boss!” Houmei waved to him. “Medium iced mocha latte, double sugar, heavy on the latte, whipped cream.”

Sanzo raised an eyebrow, but turned to make the drink. Houmei made friendly, vapid conversation across the counter, and Sanzo faintly heard the laughing reply. He had an itching feeling he knew that voice, something about its chipper, nasal tones reverberated in his head. He turned around with the cup, and sure enough, Gojyo’s greedy assistant was waiting, debit card in hand – Goku, that was his name. He accepted his sugary, girly drink with a saccharine grin, and swiped his card. Sanzo raised an eyebrow, hoping it disguised his surprise that Gojyo’s hanger-on wasn’t trying to swindle coffee out of him. Nope, the kid paid and dropped some change from his pocket into the tip jar. “Thanks, Miss Houmei!”

“Gosh, you’re welcome!” She giggled, and Goku’s cheeks flushed bright pink.

“Jeez…” He tipped his face towards Sanzo, and his flush only brightened. “Uhm, thanks, Sanzo.”

Sanzo grunted, but Houmei turned and motioned to him with her hand. “C'mon, boss,” she stage-whispered. “Hakkai told you to be nicer to customers.”

“He’s already paid,” Sanzo hissed, “He’s not a customer if he’s leaving.”

“If you need practice being nice, you can practice on me!” Goku moved to the side of the counter. “Would you like me to buy you a coffee too?”

Sanzo, without a word, filled one of their cups from the carafe and leaned against the counter across from Goku. Goku smothered a laugh behind his hand, and turned to face the store instead of Sanzo, hiding his embarrassment with a chuckle. “I guess it’s your shop, so, uh, you get all the coffee you want.”

“I need coffee, working here.” Sanzo took a gulp. A little too hot, but he liked the sting.

“Oh, yeah, with the early mornings!” Goku sipped on his iced coffee and licked the whipped cream off of his upper lip. His tongue was pink and nimble, and watching that made something twist in Sanzo’s chest. He turned his gaze back down into the black void of his coffee.

“No. The customers.” He glanced up and glowered around. There seemed to be more people around than before. He should have been happy their business was so busy, and yet… “I don’t _do_ people.”

“I kind of figured you were shy.” Sanzo hid a grimace, even as Goku shuffled his feet and propped his backside against the counter to look out at the store and all the people perusing the selection. “You were pretty gruff to Gojyo, I figured you were a little nervous talking to someone like him!”

“Nervous,” Sanzo repeated. He would have corrected Goku with regard to his exact feelings about Gojyo, but Houmei was watching him and he was sure that if he chewed Goku’s ear, Hakkai would get a full report and he would get a passive-aggressive chewing-out. “I suppose he came in too early for my tastes.”

Goku chuckled, tilting his eyes away. “So you’re grouchy before noon without your caffeine.”

“Mm.” Sanzo took another swig of his coffee and sucked it down. “Women are worse. The way they…” He motioned vaguely with his hand, but Goku helpfully supplied:

“Flirt?” He grinned, his eyebrows bouncing. Sanzo huffed, steam rolling off of his cup, but Goku shrugged and tossed his head around, flipping his hair. “I dunno, nobody flirts with me at work. But I guess I’m wearing a jumpsuit instead of a, y'know, suit suit. Plus, I’m under cars. Not cute at all.”

“Speaking of your work, don’t you have to be getting back?” Sanzo observed Goku out of the corner of his eye, but Goku chuckled.

“We’re closed on Sundays. I came in here because the sweets were good, and y'know, you’re a small business, like Gojyo’s is. I could'a gone to Starbucks, but I wanted to come here.“ Goku beamed over his shoulder, and Sanzo scoffed again, uncrossing and crossing his arms.

"I see.” He studied Goku for a moment, then, cautiously, muttered, “You know, maybe nobody flirts with you at your work because your clientele is all male.”

“Nah, there’s ladies sometimes. Girls gotta get their cars fixed, too! But even if the guys did flirt, I wouldn’t mind.” Goku raised his shoulders, his cheeks flushing pink. “There’s some really nice older guys who come in to get parts for their sports cars and motorcycles, but I think a lot of them are married, so I don’t even try.”

Sanzo couldn’t help but lean in towards Goku now.  "Really? You’d be interested in older men like that?"

"Sure, if they were interested in me!” Goku grinned ear-to-ear. “I like everyone, y'know? I’d never say no to someone just ‘cause they’re older. You might think I’m weird, but I’m good at figuring out what’s hottest about anyone. Gojyo says it’s 'cause I’m pan.” He snickered, and Sanzo rolled his eyes and hoped none of their customers overheard him. “I mean, I’ve got standards, but I’m pretty sure I’d only turn down someone who was a jerk.”

“Everyone.” Sanzo took this in, then tapped Goku’s shoulder and pointed a young woman, a rail-thin brunette looking at rolls from her wheelchair. “What about her?”

Goku observed her for a moment, already smiling. “Yeah, she’s way cute. I’d just call ahead to wherever we were going to make sure they had ramps and stuff, but I could carry her if I had to. I’m pretty strong.” He polished his bicep, and Sanzo clicked his tongue.

“And her?” He pointed to a red-haired woman with generous hips, plush thighs, a bosom one could drown in, and a tummy that pooched out against her tee-shirt. Goku giggled.

“Is this a test or something? Of course.” He traced her figure in the air. “That’s what girls are shaped like sometimes, and if she’s nice, that doesn’t matter.” Then, he dropped his voice to a whisper. “Plus, big girls and guys look so cuddly. I’d just wanna hug 'em all day. Plus, they probably know how to cook, and I know how to eat.”

Sanzo set his jaw and surveyed the room again. “You must have a limit.” He pointed. “Her?”

Goku twisted around, only to find Sanzo indicating an eight-year-old girl with her hair up in braided pigtails, her tan hand clasped around her dad’s big, thick palm. He guffawed and slapped the counter. “Y'gotta be kiddin’ me! Of course I wouldn’t flirt with her, she’s way too young, and her dad there would kill me! I can’t even said I’d wait a couple years, 'cause by then, I’ll be way too old!”

Sanzo hmphed again, as Goku emptied his coffee cup. “At least you’re not that stupid.” He still found a smile aching at his lips, as if he wanted to empathize with Goku’s boundless mirth. He really did have something warm about him, an ease in his posture, a lightness in his touch, and a brightness in his voice, that made his natural friendliness to everyone seem to make sense. He was the kind of person anyone could gravitate towards, and it was likely that any attraction he had would quickly be mutual. Still, Sanzo couldn’t help but notice that Goku had turned his back to him and had only looked at him a few times since he’d gotten his coffee. “One more.” He tapped Goku’s shoulder, then pointed at himself. Goku turned around, and his cheeks went bright pink.

“Jeez, really?” Goku lowered his chin, turning redder and redder by the second. “Uhm, no.”

Sanzo felt a jolt of surprise. “No.” His words surely didn’t match his flustered expression, and Sanzo felt molten anger erupting into his chest. After all, Goku had said he wouldn’t flirt with jerks. “Why not?”

“Wh-what?” Goku took a step back. “Well, uh, you’re at work. This’s your job.” The anger in Sanzo froze over in an instant, as Goku hunched down, almost vanishing under the jars of candy decorating the counter. “I know other people might flirt with ya, and I don’t mind people flirting with me on the job, but I know if someone’s being nice to me when I buy something, it’s 'cause they’re getting paid to be nice to me.” Sanzo clenched his teeth, because _was this kid for real?_   “So, uh.” Goku took another step back. “It might'a been okay for Gojyo, 'cause he met Hakkai outside here and came 'cause Hakkai told him to, but you’ve only talked to me twice and that’s 'cause I’ve bought stuff, and expecting you to be nice to me just 'cause I bought stuff from ya is way wrong. So, no.”

Sanzo put his palm to his face and took a deep breath, then put his nose close to Goku’s. “And if we were somewhere that wasn’t here?”

This set Goku’s face ablaze, his cheeks as red as if he’d been steamed. “Uh! – well! – I! – Igottagobye!” He spun around, nearly colliding with one of the table displays, but bolted around it and to the door. Sanzo groaned and ran his palm down his face again as the shop bell jingled in Goku’s wake, and as Houmei turned to him, her hands on her hips.

“Wow, boss, you spooked him! I thought you were trying to be nicer to him!”

Sanzo merely grunted and stormed back to the coffee machine. “If he comes back, let me know.”

“Oh?” Houmei’s eyebrows bounced, and she twisted away from the register to beam at him. “Are you gonna apologize?”

Sanzo scoffed. “I’m going to give the idiot a kick in the ass for running away when I’m trying to get his number.” He pushed into the back room, leaving the door swinging behind him, just to exhale in the kitchen.

It was stupid, impulsive, and strange, he knew, but the thought was in his head now. Being on the receiving end of that attention was an attractive notion, much like the thought of walking in the warm sun on a chilly day. What remained to be seen was if that sun was as comfortable as it looked, or if he would get burned.


	6. Raise Me Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gojyo and Hakkai's picnic plans are stymied by unexpected rain, but Gojyo improvises.

**6: Raise Me Up**

Five more minutes. Gojyo couldn’t keep himself from peeking out from under the chassis he was working on at the big clock over his tool rack. Hakkai had promised lunch at noon, and his stomach was already growling. Since finding out that Gojyo routinely skipped breakfast, Hakkai had taken to running down the street around five AM every morning and tucking a bag with croissant in it through the mail slot, but Gojyo worked up an appetite by noon. More than being hungry, though, he was watery inside at the thought of seeing Hakkai again.

He hadn’t gotten the nerve up to ask Hakkai out again after their first date had gone sour, half because his nose was still sore, and half because he was nervous. If a guy was willing to see you again after getting in a barfight with you on the first date, he was a goddamn keeper, and Gojyo couldn’t risk screwing this up. He’d only been able to text him back and forth throughout the week, “How are you doing?” “lol holy shit what a day,” “I’m sure it’ll get better,” “Thanks for the treat, I owe you like six.” Even so, the anticipation sat in his gut like a wiggly block of gelatin, and he could barely swallow as he tried to focus on his work. Four more minutes.

He was just cranking the bolt back into place when there was a soft cough from the front of the garage, and Gojyo rolled out from under the wheel shaft and tilted his head back to see Hakkai waiting at the door with a basket hooked on his elbow, his sleeves cuffed. He’d left his shop apron behind, but there was still something white smudged on his collar. He giggled as Gojyo kicked his legs and rolled up to a stand. “Hey, I didn’t hear ya come in!” Gojyo slicked his hair back behind his ears, feeling his cheeks stretch to match his broad grin. Hakkai chuckled and took a few steps into the garage.

“I walk softly, I’m told.” Even in the dim, grayish light filtering down through the skylight, Hakkai looked radiant. His smile lit him up. He cast his eyes up and around the room. “Goodness, and this is all yours?”

“Leased, but yeah.” Gojyo held his arms out. “This is my shop.” He realized his hands were still caked with grime, and stuffed them into his jumpsuit pockets. “Sorry I’m not, uh, ready for ya.”

“Oh, no, I know I’m early. I was just eager to see you again.” Hakkai set the basket down on the workbench and got his kerchief out from his top pocket. Gojyo felt his face turn a little red as Hakkai wiped the dirt from his mouth and jaw, and he knew he blushed when Hakkai leaned in and gave him a quick, chaste kiss. “Why don’t you straighten up a bit? I don’t mind waiting here.”

Gojyo almost didn’t want to. Standing there and letting Hakkai clean him up from top to bottom sounded just as good, even if it would have taken far too long.

Hakkai had waited near the workbench, perusing the waiting cars from where he stood. As Gojyo entered, though, he realized the light from overhead had gone from dim to dark, and there was a familiar thrum of noise from overhead. “Shit, did it start raining?”

“I was worried about this.” Hakkai had folded his arms and was staring into the middle distance between his drill bits and screwdrivers hanging on the back wall. “It was overcast while I was walking over, but I crossed my fingers that it might clear up or hold off until the evening. I had dearly hoped to take us outside, to the park or the like.” He sounded devastated under his subdued tones, as if the rain had stolen something from him. Maybe, in a way, it had. Gojyo sidled up to Hakkai and put his hands on his shoulders.

“Hey, now, that’s okay. You and me, we can still have our picnic, it just won’t be outside.” Gojyo grabbed the basket and tugged Hakkai’s sleeve towards the nicest car in the row. Someone had dropped a Lexus SUV off that morning to change the light bulbs and rotate the tires, and though Goku had taken care of it in ten minutes, the car was there until its owner came back that afternoon and Gojyo could get the shop vacuum in and out before anyone noticed anything wrong. He opened the trunk and set the basket down. “You ever sat in a car like this before?”

Hakkai pursed his lips, considering. “Perhaps, but never in the trunk.” He gracefully swept down to sit on the bed of the trunk, and Gojyo sat down beside him.

“Sure, yeah, but have you ever sat in a fancy car ten feet off the ground?”

“What?”

Gojyo kicked his leg out and hit the jack, and the hydraulics groaned to life and raised the car up as high as it went. Hakkai gasped and grabbed Gojyo’s arm as they ascended, but Gojyo snickered with glee and patted his back. “It’s okay, I do this sometimes.” He soothed him with a warm hand on the small of his back until the lift stopped, and touched Hakkai’s chin to turn him back towards him. “Are you scared of heights?”

“Oh, no, I just wasn’t expecting it!” Hakkai laughed, but it was staccato and nervous. Gojyo patted his shoulder, and Hakkai shifted a little closer, his thigh all but on top of Gojyo’s. “Er, why do you do this?”

Gojyo pointed up towards the skylight. “Usually, this is just kind of my little patch of sunshine.” The rain drummed on the glass, pouring down and draining onto the corrugated roof with an audible patter. “It’s a little noisier today, but, I dunno, I guess it’s just kind of relaxing.” Gojyo moved the back seat down to plug the keys into the ignition and turned the radio on, then flipped it to the classical station and turned the volume low, before settling next to Hakkai again. “See? We got ambiance and everything.”

“I see.” Hakkai finally relaxed, as if the anxiety had been yanked from his spine like a metal rod, and he settled in and crossed his legs. “I suppose one must claim luxury wherever he must. Is this your daily lunch routine?”

“When I have time for lunch!” Gojyo laughed, until he realized he’d let that slip out in front of Mother Hen Hakkai. “Uh, ‘cept, y'know, some days I eat in the storage room. And, uh, I’m sure whatever I bring in ain’t nearly as nice as what’s in that basket.”

Hakkai, his eyebrows knit up like poised needles, didn’t take his eyes off of Gojyo as he opened the basket. “Rotisserie chicken salad on a fresh kaiser. I usually make sandwiches using the stale bread and toast them, or make pain perdu sandwiches soaked in a savory custard to share with everyone in the bakeshop.” He handed Gojyo his sandwich, wrapped neatly in parchment paper, but as Gojyo took his sandwich, Hakkai laid his hand over his. “You realize I’m concerned, do you not?”

Gojyo turned pink, because Hakkai’s serious expression lacked his genial friendliness, but spoke to something very solid under Hakkai’s kind, soft exterior. “Aw, c'mon. I’m okay.” Gojyo sandwiched Hakkai’s hand between his. “I’m just busy.” He unwrapped the sandwich Hakkai had made for him, taking only a moment to admire the roll’s flaky, flour-dusted crust and the savory scent of mayonnaise and chives from the chicken salad before taking an enthusiastic bite. Hakkai hummed and watched him enjoy the first bite, before unwrapping his own sandwich.

“One can never be too busy to take care of oneself. If your state of mind is such that you can’t be bothered to eat, sleep, shower, or handle any of your basic needs, then I have cause to worry.” Hakkai waited for Gojyo to chew and swallow, as Gojyo contemplated the sandwich.

“I just forget, you know? Nothing’s more important than keeping the business going, and I guess I can kind of get on a one-track state of mind.” He took another big bite and smiled appreciatively. “I ought'a not do that, especially when I remember how good food can be.” He nudged Hakkai with his elbow. “So, what was that you were saying about pans? Perdue? Is that a chicken thing?”

Hakkai chortled into his mouthful of chicken, but dabbed his mouth with a napkin before he spoke. “No, no, pain perdu is, erm, well, it means 'lost bread.’ It’s what bakers would do with stale bread.” He cleared his throat and faced Gojyo with a bright smile and a finger lifted. “In the Roman Empire, when public bakeries became common and the first baker’s unions were formed, bread would only last a day, two at the most, so the leftover loaves that were too hard to sell were wasted. Bakers do hate to throw bread away; bread means money to a baker.” Gojyo snickered, and Hakkai smiled approvingly and went on, “In order to not lose that potential profit, the bakers would slice the stale loaves, soak it in custard, bake it, and sell it like that. It’s better known as French toast, but when I make it savory, I call it pain perdu so that nobody in the kitchen gets confused when it’s not sugary and topped with cinnamon.”

Gojyo scrunched his nose up trying to imagine a French toast that wasn’t dripping maple syrup and whipped cream. “So, like, meaty?”

“Yes. Er, somewhat.” Hakkai shifted so that he was facing Gojyo, propping his shoulders against the rearmost driver’s-side window. “Custard is made with eggs and cream, yes? But they’re neutral flavors, and can be made either sweet or savory, depending on the accompaniments. Add sugar or honey, perhaps vanilla, and you get puddings, custards, French ice cream, but salt and spice will give you scrambled eggs, sauces, or mayonnaise, you see?” Gojyo nodded along, and grinned as he realized Hakkai’s gray mood had vanished into his eager lecture.

Hakkai talked about some of his favorite adaptations in the bakery, creative things he did with spare batter or icing, leftover rolls and bread – “Though my very favorite thing to do is donate two-day-old bread to the local soup kitchen-” and some of his tricks of the trade. Gojyo didn’t get most of it, but Hakkai’s eagerness was as warm as his fresh pastries. Gojyo, in return, detailed some of his own shop adventures.

“Cars are sensitive, so you gotta know how to treat 'em. Like a lady, y'know?” Gojyo mussed his hair and chuckled, settling against the inside wheel well. “It takes a careful touch to make these kittens purr.” Hakkai hummed, but Gojyo heard a little disapproval. Jealousy, maybe? The thought made Gojyo grin, and he patted the bumper. “See, this sweetie here, she just needed a little maintenance today, but she gets her oil changed here too. I give her a special synthetic. It’s not a new car, and the owner takes her out on long road trips. The stuff I recommended costs a little more, but it keeps everything a little cleaner, so the engine runs better and he doesn’t have to change the oil as often. It’s the customer’s choice, of course, but it’s what I recommend.” He grinned and sat back again. “Whatever keeps his little baby going a few more miles, y'know?”

“I see.” Hakkai rubbed his lower lip and tapped one finger against the carpet liner. “Do you know why cars and boats and the like are so often referred to as female? I’m afraid that cars lack the definition that would gender them in either direction.”

Gojyo furrowed his brow. “Huh. Uh, never thought about it, I just heard other folks do it.” He considered it briefly. “I guess maybe it’s 'cause they carry us places, like our moms did before we were born.”

“A vessel for lives, deemed feminine.” Hakkai frowned. “Interesting.” The silence fell, and the rain overhead only seemed louder. Gojyo cleared his throat, then leaned to tap Hakkai’s shoulder.

“Now, see, that little Honda over there, that’s got a story to it.” Gojyo grinned and shifted to sit with his leg flush to Hakkai’s. “You know what happens when someone puts sugar in a gas tank?”

He had a few good stories to drown out the rain: high school pranks that he had to fix, kids putting rocks into hubcaps and scaring the daylights out of their parents, “you won’t believe where I found a golf ball one time,” anything to keep Hakkai looking at him and smiling. Every second, worth it. However, after a while, the minutes caught up with them, and he spotted the clock on the wall and winced.

“Damn if it ain’t near one. I hate to do this, but I gotta get back to work.”

“Oh, as do I.” Hakkai picked up the bowls he’d used to serve their fruit salad and the empty wrappers, then peered over the edge of the trunk. “Er, how do we get down?”

“Easy. Gravity.” Gojyo swung his legs out and hopped down. Hakkai gasped as he landed feet-first on the concrete, bending his knees to catch himself, but he spun around and grinned. “It’s only about seven feet!”

“Oh, Gojyo, I don’t know.” Hakkai leaned over, just poking his nose past the upper edge of the bumper. “It looks very high like this. And onto the hard floor, I…”

Gojyo took a small step back and opened his arms. “I’ll catch you.” He waved his hands towards himself. “Right here. Your feet won’t touch the ground until I let them.”

Hakkai skeptically raised an eyebrow, but he put his legs over the edge, one at a time. “Is it alright?”

“I promise. Just push yourself off, keep your knees bent, and–”

Hakkai squeezed his eyes shut and shoved off the end of the SUV, and Gojyo took one step in to let him fall into his arms. He caught Hakkai around the waist, and found himself staring up into Hakkai’s eyes as the end of his sentence dropped from his lips: “Fall.”

He had somehow caught Hakkai tight around the waist, his chest pressed against Hakkai’s hips. Time froze, as something ineffable passed between them. Gojyo’s stomach and chest all melted as Hakkai gazed down at him, his soft lips just parted with surprise, his deep green eyes warm, pupils dilated, and a delicate pink blush brushed across his cheeks. “Oh, you did.”

Gojyo, feeling his face get hot, nodded. He was pretty damn sure he was falling.

“See, now, not so bad.” He lowered Hakkai to the ground, and quickly stepped to the lever to lower the car down from the lift, and tried to fix his hair a few dozen times as the hydraulics eased back down. Hakkai, too, tucked his hair back behind his ears and fidgeted until Gojyo passed his basket back. His hand lingered on Gojyo’s for a second longer than necessary as he accepted it.

“Not at all bad. Very good, in fact.” He hung the basket on his arm, and turned from Gojyo very, very slowly, only turning his face away at the last second.

The rain was still coming down when Hakkai reached the door, but Gojyo ran to the back room and met him there before he could open it. “Wait a second.” He pushed his umbrella into Hakkai’s hand. “Take it.” He shoved his hands in his back pockets before Hakkai could try to give it back. “Just return it next time you see me, okay?”

Hakkai accepted it with a grateful smile. “I do hope that won’t be too long.”

“It won’t be.” Gojyo smirked, drinking Hakkai in for just a moment longer. “Tell me when you’re gonna do that French toast thing.”

“I can do it tomorrow.”

“That sounds fantastic.” He hesitated for a scant second, then kissed Hakkai’s cheek. “Text me a little later?”

Hakkai hummed a note of laughter as Gojyo withdrew. “Of course.” He brushed his palm over the spot Gojyo had kissed, his eyelashes batting. “Thank you for having me.” He hugged the basket closer to his chest. “I… I apologize if I was moody. I tend to get down when the weather is poor, but you… raised my spirits.” He glanced up at Gojyo, already smirking, and Gojyo caught the joke and grinned.

“Anytime you need someone to lift you up, you just say the word.”

Gojyo watched Hakkai leave, carrying his umbrella on his shoulder and the basket hung on his arm. He glanced back a few times, somehow still smiling despite the gloomy rain, and Gojyo didn’t tear his eyes away from his back until he vanished down the sidewalk into the precipitation.

He thought for another second on the moment he’d held Hakkai to his chest, his warm weight a welcome burden, and grinned to himself. “I really think I got something good here.”


	7. An Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goku receives an unusual message and ends up having an extraordinary night.

**7: An Invitation**

Goku loved the days Gojyo stopped over at Hakkai’s bakery for coffee, because Hakkai never let him leave without a sample large enough to be shared. Gojyo would open up a precious little box on their counter and split whatever Hakkai had sent straight down the middle.

“He says this is mille-feuille, or Napoleon, or if you can’t pronounce either of those, vanilla slice.” Gojyo grinned as he unfolded the sides of the box, while Goku punched his shoulder.

“I can say it! Mill-foy, mill-foy, mill-foy!” He stuck his tongue out at Gojyo, but Gojyo ignored him as he finished flattening the box into a platter around the confection.

“Hakkai says it’s made with three layers of puff pastry with vanilla pastry cream in the middle. He said it’s his signature dish, and he really wanted me to have some.” Gojyo smiled appreciatively at it, warmth flooding his expression. Goku didn’t even have to say he wanted some too, as Gojyo took a plastic knife from the drawer under the cash register and carved the confection in half. It was a pretty rectangle glazed to look like marble, vanilla icing swirled with cocoa, and on the inside, it was golden and flaky and oozing tender, glossy pastry cream. Goku pulled a fork from the drawer and stuffed a bite into his mouth without hesitation.

The pastry, tender and airy, flaked in his mouth, and the sweet cream melted on his tongue. He groaned his ecstasy, and Gojyo snorted. Goku whipped around and smacked Gojyo’s arm, trying to scold him without opening his mouth, but Gojyo just laughed and gave him a noogie.

“Quit makin’ sex noises over desserts and I’ll quit laughing at ya!” Gojyo dug his fork in on his side of the pastry and sampled it, then went quiet as he chewed and swallowed. Goku was pretty sure he was stifling his own happiness, his eyes wide, and he licked his lips as he swallowed. “But man, if food got my rocks off, you can bet I’d need a fuckin’ minute right about now.”

“Gross.” Goku took another bite, then noticed something on the pink paper that separated the cake from the box – gray marks. “What’s that?” He nudged his half of the slice out of the way, only to see that the wax paper was showing through to reveal something written under it. “Ooh, did Hakkai leave you a love note under there?”

“Under where?” Gojyo moved his piece too, and Goku picked the wax paper out of the way (while resisting the urge to make a joke about more presents for Gojyo in Hakkai’s under-where) to find a scrap of white paper under the wax with a note written in stiff, small print:

 _“Goku: 80 ½ East Main Street. 7:00 p.m. Tonight.”_ There was what looked like a phone number scratched under it, but it had been etched out, and the note was instead concluded with: _“Come or don’t.”_

“Ohoho!” Gojyo laughed wildly and shook Goku. “Will ya look at that, that’s gotta be from Mr. Hard-to-Get!”

“Shut up!” Goku’s voice cracked, and he realized his face was burning. He covered his cheeks with his hands and tried to scrape the humiliation off. “Oh, man, is this a joke?”

“Don’t think so, kid, that Sanzo guy must fancy ya! And why wouldn’t he?” Gojyo planted his arm around Goku’s shoulders and swayed his body, but Goku elbowed at him and shuffled a few steps away. Gojyo scoffed – the kid was surprisingly sturdy for a shorty – but tucked his hands into his pockets with his palms on his hips. “And why would it be a joke?”

“I dunno, maybe it’s ‘cause I’m just a customer! Me and him have barely even talked!” Goku crossed his arms tight. “And 'sides, he’s so pretty and proud, he must have folks chasin’ after him all day trying to get a peek–”

“And he still sent his address and an invite to you.”

“Yeah, but he’s so serious and stuff, and I’m a goof!”

“That’s why they call it magnetism, kid: opposites attract. Maybe he liked how goofy you are.” Gojyo put his palm on Goku’s head. “Come on. You gonna go?”

“Aw, I dunno.” Goku shook his head, shying back from Gojyo, and Gojyo hummed and peered back at the note.

“'Come or don’t.’ What a prick. Well, it’s up to you.” Gojyo returned to his piece of cake and finished it, then wiped his hands off on his jumpsuit. “You got plenty of time to think about it. 'Til then, I got a rattling muffler and two oil changes with my name on it, and if Lirin gets here on time, you can help me troubleshoot that clicking noise in the pickup.” He traipsed down into the bay of the garage, still snickering, 'Come or don’t,’ and Goku looked the note over again.

Come or don’t. That either took a lot of confidence or a huge lack thereof. Taking a dare like that was kind of a risk, because Goku could imagine just how disappointed he would be if he told someone “Come if you want, don’t if you’d rather not,” and finding out that they’d rather not by waiting at the front window all night. A risk like that deserved a reward.

* * *

Goku grilled Gojyo around the radiator of the pickup truck on what he thought Sanzo might like, how he should dress, what he should do, how to be, and Gojyo gave him the same answer to all of it: “Be yourself. It’s you someone ought'a like, not whatever front you put on.”

He approached the door of 80 ½ East Main Street, just his normal self after a shower and putting on his favorite clothes, a comfy tee and distressed denims, and swallowed as he took the façade in. 80 ½  was nested in a recessed courtyard between 80 and 82, their walls close and high, the sort of place one might miss if one wasn’t looking for it. It was in an older part of town, where all the buildings were older than he was, older than the nuns back home, and probably even older than most grandpas, the high windows lined with ebony and mahogany, with burnished gold-colored curtains hung over them, the door thick and dark with a huge handle. It felt big, or maybe Goku just felt small. There was a copper plaque beside the door, labeled “Occidental Delights: An Antique Boutique,” and below it, a mother-of-pearl inlaid doorbell. Goku braced himself and pressed the button, and heard a chime from inside. Then, a little speaker he hadn’t noticed crackled, and a pleasant, sing-song voice was heard:

“Good evening! You seem a bit young for our clientele but too old to be playing pranks. How can I help you?”

Goku glanced around for a camera, but spotted none. “Um, I got a note in a box of cake saying to be here at seven or don’t. Does someone named Sanzo live here, maybe?”

There was a musical laugh from aloft. “Why, yes. Three, in fact.”

All of a sudden, the door flew open, knocking Goku back a step, and Sanzo stuck his head out. “I’ve got it! Go do whatever it is you were doing!”

The person on the other end laughed again as Sanzo stepped out of the building (his suit jacket replaced with a black vest, sans tie) and as Goku picked himself up, and the buzzer turned off as one of the upstairs windows opened and an older man with long, silvery hair bound in a long braid poked his head out the window and beamed at Goku and Sanzo. “Oh, Kouryuu, why didn’t you tell me you had a date?”

“Shut it, old man. It’s not a date.” Sanzo glowered at Goku, then turned the same fierce look up to the man on the second floor. “Just having a conversation. You don’t need to meddle.”

“Dear boy, at my age, meddling is the most we can do when it comes to young love.” The man giggled, then waved to Goku. “Apologies for the cold reception! I’m Koumyou Sanzo, his father.” He gestured loosely to Sanzo. “He didn’t tell me we were having company. Come inside, I’ll make the pair of you some tea!”

“Father, no-” But before Sanzo could get his denial out, Koumyou vanished and the window shut. He huffed, then spun back to Goku. He opened his mouth, then hesitated. Goku waited expectantly, cocking his head as Sanzo seemed to mull the moment over. Eventually, he muttered, “You actually came.”

Goku’s heart sunk. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

Sanzo didn’t answer, his hand balling into a tight fist, before he released it and shrugged his shoulders. “I recognize my method of inviting you was… unorthodox.”

"Is that all?" Goku bounced back and grinned. "I like weird!”

Sanzo snorted and rolled his eyes, then turned his glare back to the empty upstairs window. “My father said he was making us tea. Do you drink tea?”

“Hmm, I like some tea, and I’ll try anything once. Did you wanna have tea before we did whatever you wanted to do?”

Sanzo was quiet, but opened the door again and held it for Goku.

The shop was dark, and Sanzo guided Goku on a careful path around sheet-draped objects and stands into the lit back area of the building, into a brightly lit kitchen. The room was elegantly appointed in beige and cream, with little pops of maroon and purple from accent tiles on the backsplash and in a few framed portraits of flowers hung near the dining table. Goku’s gaze, however, was drawn to the elephant in the room – a mountain of a man, bald on top but with shaggy brown scruff hanging down the back of his head, sitting in a bathrobe with his head bowed into a newspaper. Sanzo cleared his throat, and the older man glanced up, and his intense, dark eyes settled on him with an expression that could pin a moose to a wall. Goku jumped, and Sanzo stepped in front of him.

“Father, this is–”

“Momo, dear!” Koumyou bustled into the kitchen, a brazen smile on his foxlike face, straightening his shirtsleeves and a garish, orange paisley tie. “We have a guest! Kouryuu finally brought a boy home!”

The man – Momo, apparently – raised a bushy eyebrow, then turned back to his newspaper. “And here I thought I heard you nattering about grandchildren.”

“Perhaps it’s a bit early for that, but-” Koumyou winked at Goku. “Do you know you’re the first boy Kouryuu’s ever brought home?”

'Momo’ grimaced. “That isn’t the problem.” He sighed and lifted his paper. “Don’t smother the young man.”

Just as Goku recovered from 'Momo,’ Koumyou grabbed both of his hands in his and dragged him out from behind Sanzo. “Here you are! Like I said, I’m Koumyou, he’s Toudai, but everyone calls him Momo –”

“Only you call him that, Father.” Sanzo crossed his arms and tipped his head away.

Koumyou ignored him with the silken ease of someone who’d long since gotten worn into the groove: “What’s your name, dear boy?”

“I’m Goku!” Goku shook both of Koumyou’s hands back, beaming. “It’s super nice to meet ya! Are you both Sanzo’s dads?”

“Oh, yes! We adopted Kouryuu when he was just a tiny thing. Hang on!” Koumyou dropped Goku’s hands and sped into the dark shop. Toudai groaned from his seat and put a meaty palm over his face.

“There he goes.” Toudai glanced over his newspaper to Goku, his expression unchanged but somehow lighter. “My husband is what they call 'irrepressible.’” His face flattened back to stone. “I don’t think people would like him when he wasn’t happy.”

A slow shiver ran up Goku’s spine, and he edged behind Sanzo again. Koumyou burst back in carrying a stack of photo albums, and Goku caught the subtle change on Sanzo’s face from annoyance – eyebrows furrowed, eyes narrow, mouth in a tight line – to horror – lips pressed back, eyes wide. “This is entirely unnecessary.”

“Poppycock!” Koumyou waved Sanzo off. “Goku, Kouryuu, sit down, sit down!” He put the books on the table, then put the kettle on the stove. Goku happily took the seat furthest from Toudai, and Sanzo groaned and sat down between Goku and Toudai. Sanzo grumbled something about 'One cup of tea, then we’re leaving,’ as Koumyou spun back around with a tin of butter cookies and opened the topmost book, revealing a picture of a chubby naked baby with yellow hair. Goku clapped his hands to his mouth to cover an 'awwww!,’ Sanzo turned purple, and Koumyou beamed. “There’s our little Kouryuu, just a few days after we adopted him!”

“Technically, you adopted him,” Toudai muttered, as he took a few cookies and slid them back behind his newspaper and Sanzo furiously tried to flip the page off of the images of his first bath and him playing in a mud pubble. “Back in those days, men like us couldn’t be public about our identities. Especially as visible as we both were in our communities. Koumyou adopted Kouryuu on his own, and was made a special allowance as a single father because of his occupation.”

“What’d'ya mean?”

Koumyou giggled over Sanzo’s shoulder, as Sanzo covered his face and stifled a groan. “I was a youth counselor. Oh, and Momo was a famous athlete!” He yanked another book out and opened it to a black and white photo of a young but still-gigantic man with a massive swath of dark hair, wearing tiny shorts and throwing shot put. “Hammer throw, shot put, all that delightful stuff. Seven silver medals, three gold, wasn’t it?”

“Over four Olympic tournaments, yes.” Toudai popped one of the cookies into his mouth without looking up from the newspaper. Koumyou tsked him and put his hands on his hips.

“Momo, your sugar.”

“I took my insulin, don’t you needle me.” Toudai ate another cookie, and Goku had to force himself not to laugh.

“Ah, my.” Koumyou sighed, but patted Sanzo’s back. Sanzo grunted and shrank away, but Koumyou returned his efforts without hesitation and flipped a few more pages of Sanzo’s pictures for Goku. “He’s our precious child, you see.”

The kettle whistled just then, and Koumyou zipped away to pour, as Goku flipped to a page with a ten-year-old Sanzo scowling for a school photographer. He snickered and nudged Sanzo’s ribs with his elbow. “Were you always this grumpy?”

“Oh, you have no idea!” Koumyou laughed, as Sanzo covered his face and groaned. He scuttled back to the table with four cups gathered in his fingers and set them out around the table. “He’s got such a sweet smile, but I never see it!”

“Don’t listen to him,” Sanzo muttered, and pushed his cup away. Goku giggled and took a quick sip, ignoring the heat as it scalded his tongue. It was intensely sweet, with the scent of cinnamon and cardamom gathering in his nose as he lifted the cup to his face. On the other side of the table, Koumyou sighed contently and turned a few more pages over.

“Yes, I’m sure Kouryuu will tell you plenty, but I admit I’ve worried about him. I don’t think he really had any good friends until he met that Hakkai in preparatory school.” Koumyou settled on a page with an image of two boys in school uniforms, Sanzo sulking as he held his backpack, and a scowling Hakkai at his side. “They were both rather, er, serious children. But, really, poor dear Hakkai has gone through so much–”

“Father, this really is quite enough.” Sanzo stood up abruptly. “I’m taking Goku to see the buskers. If we waste any more time here, they’re going to pack up and leave.”

“Oh!” Koumyou gasped, covering his mouth with both hands, then shook his arms out into a shrug. “I didn’t realize I was holding you up! My goodness, don’t let me keep you!” Sanzo rolled his eyes again, but grumbled something Goku just made out:

“If you’d just listened to me in the first place…”

Sanzo poured their tea into a pair of take-away mugs, and Koumyou showed them out. It had gone from twilight to night in the time he'd been inside, but Koumyou lingered in the dark doorway as they departed. “Don’t be a stranger, Goku! Any friend of Kouryuu is a friend of ours!”

Goku turned from Sanzo’s side to wave back at the front door as Sanzo led him down to the sidewalk. “Thanks for having me in, Mister Sanzo! It was real nice!”

“We’d be happy to have you again! Kouryuu, bring him back, it’s been ages since we’ve had four for Mah Jongg!” Koumyou wiggled his fingers as a final wave, and closed the door. Sanzo flipped off the closed door over his shoulder, then picked up his pace.

“It’s this way.” He held out the mug of Goku’s tea, and Goku took it from him and jogged to keep up. Sanzo looked stiff and a little angry, but Goku could see nerves in his furrowed brow. “My fathers… they’re intense.”

“I don’t mind! Mr. Toudai, uh, he was a little scary, but Mr. Koumyou is so nice! He loves you a lot, huh?”

Sanzo pressed his lips down and lowered his chin, the intensity in his expression visible in the dark between streetlights. Finally, he muttered, “Yeah.”

“Yeah, I don’t have parents.” Goku kicked the ground as he walked, hopping between a skip and a stroll. “So, you’re lucky they care about you so much!”

Sanzo pursed his lips again, and grumbled another noise of assent. They were quiet as they walked on through the dark residential street, at least for a minute, until Goku cleared his throat. “So, you met Hakkai in school?”

Sanzo exhaled through his nose. “He and I were in the same classes, and he was the only person in any of my classes that didn’t annoy me. We ended up going to the same college together. I took accounting, he took pre-med, but we shared General Education classes and studied together. That’s all. Don’t make too much of it.”

“Aww, but that’s nice!” Goku beamed and jogged ahead of Sanzo, walking backwards so he could face him. “That sounds like me and my roommate! Me and him were in the same foster home, and everyone was mean to Nataku because he’s super shy, and now even though me and him are in different college programs, we hang out and study together and we’re like, best besties forever!” Goku hooked his pinky fingers together. “No, wait, _super_ best besties.” He squeezed his fingers together, grinning broadly. “Is it kind of like that for you and Hakkai?”

Sanzo raised an eyebrow and studied Goku’s face. “Just how old are you?”

“Twenty!” Goku beamed.

“Could’ve fooled me.” Sanzo drew out a cigarette and lit it, but Goku stuck his tongue out at him.

“Well, maybe you just act older, so there. Seriously, how old are you?”

“Twenty-five.”

Goku nodded, bobbing a little mid-step but not turning to face forward. “Well, the suit makes you look way older.” Sanzo looked down at himself, frowning, then scoffed.

“I work for my fathers’ antique shop when I’m not at the bakery. I have to look the part.”

Goku gasped. “Whoa, really?”

“I do the books, like I do for the bakery, and sometimes Dad brings me in for private sales negotiations. Apparently I frighten customers into paying closer to the asking price.”

Goku laughed, but Sanzo suddenly lunged forward and grabbed his arm. As he jerked to a stop, Goku realized his heel was at the edge of a curb, and Sanzo had tugged him in to keep him from falling, putting the pair of them chest to chest. “You have to be careful. Walk forward.”

“Heh, yeah. Sorry.” Goku spun back around and landed at Sanzo’s side. The sidewalk was wide, but Sanzo let Goku walk close as they walked on. Sanzo had dropped his cigarette, but he lit another one to illuminate their way towards a brightly lit section of the main road, and Goku nervously sipped at his tea. Cooled off, the sweetness of the tea was even richer.

The historic main street was lit up with streetlights over the closed stores, but a few buskers had set up with instruments, and plenty of people stood around to listen. The noise swelled around them as they came closer, discordant and clashing in the air, but Sanzo led Goku over to an older man with a saxophone surrounded by a crowd, and the music became clear: a swanky melody, played with exquisite skill. Goku peered through the crowd to try and watch a little closer as his fingers flew across the valves, but Sanzo tugged him back by his collar.

“Don’t push.”

“I really wanna see!”

“You don’t need to see. Don’t make a scene.” Sanzo crossed his arms, jiggling his cup in his hand. “Just listen.”

Goku was about to shoot back, but reconsidered what Sanzo had said. _'Don’t make a scene.’_ Sanzo looked stiff and nervous. Goku eased back to his side. “I guess I can hear fine.”

They stood there for a while, as the saxophonist played a medley of jazz and blues tunes with a CD recorder playing a bass line and backbeat. Goku could only tell the songs apart by rhythm and beat, but Sanzo seemed immersed, hanging on every note. Goku noticed him swaying a little, and faintly heard him hum along. Goku didn’t know much about music, but he could tell Sanzo was relaxing for the first time since he’d met him. His brow had softened, joints looser, and Goku could almost see him smiling. He moved his hand down to Sanzo’s side and carefully slipped his fingers between his. Sanzo stiffened with surprise, like a cat doused with water, and whipped his head around to face Goku, but Goku squeezed his palm and ran his thumb along the back of his hand.

“Thanks for showing me this.”

He got the feeling Sanzo didn’t show this side of himself to a lot of people.

They stayed listening for a little longer, some people staying, some going, until the crowd cleared enough that Sanzo could get to the front and dropped a ten-dollar bill into his tip jar. The busker winked, though it was hard to tell under his bushy eyebrows, then hit the skip button on his player and kicked into what very much sounded like a romantic tune. Goku inhaled, and felt hope rise in his chest: this was his chance.

When Sanzo returned, Goku took his hand and tugged him so that they were facing each other. Sanzo’s face twisted for a second, but Goku put his hand on Sanzo’s waist. “Do you like to dance? I think I know this song.”

“Dance.” Sanzo repeated the word as if it were foreign, but after a second’s contemplation, he let his hand rest on Goku’s shoulder. Goku backed off to put both of their cups down near the closest light post then returned, repositioned both of them, and moved into a slow sway. It wasn’t sophisticated, a step back, a step in, a little turn as the song moved into the bridge. Goku faintly heard Sanzo’s exhale stutter as he moved in a little closer, and he moved his chin to Sanzo’s shoulder and sang softly into his ear:

“ _Take me into your loving arms, kiss me under the light of a thousand sta~ars…”_

Sanzo bowed his head and pecked at Goku’s lips. “Shut up.” He took a definitive step and swung Goku around. “You’re an awful singer.”

“Yeah, and you’re not much of a dancer, but you sure look happier.” Goku shook his head against Sanzo’s shoulder. “Can I tell ya somethin’?” Sanzo made an inquiring noise and moved a step back, letting Goku look up into his eyes. “See, I talk a lot about flirting and stuff, but I’ve never actually been on a date before. I’m always too nervous to ask someone out. You’re the first person who’s ever asked me out.” Sanzo raised an eyebrow, and Goku chuckled again and spun them another step. The streetlights were dimming around them, the crowds thinning out, but Goku was only really looking at Sanzo anyway. “I don’t mind going with the flow, though. I liked meeting your dads, and listening to music with you is great! And Mr. Koumyou was right: you really do have the best smile. It’s so bright, just like the sun.”

Despite the darkness, Goku could tell Sanzo had gone pink. “I’m nothing like that.” He pulled Goku’s wrists and tugged him back in.

“You’re like a lot of good things. You’re like, uh, like the cake! There’s layers!” Goku grinned and led Sanzo into a little spin. “See, you’re all crisp and pretty on the outside, so pretty it’s impossible to eat you, but then you break in and see how tender and flaky you are and the soft cream in the middle. I feel like I haven’t seen your soft creamy middle yet, though.”

Sanzo scoffed his annoyance. “I don’t have a soft creamy middle.”

“Maybe not.” Goku chuckled and shook his head against Sanzo. It wasn’t cold, but Sanzo was shivering a little. “But I guess I’d like to find out.” The song ended, and Sanzo backed away from Goku, pulling back. Goku waited, searching his face for answers. His expression had barely changed, but his eyes were wider, blown to black by the darkness and maybe something else.

“Believe what you want.” Then, he extended his hand. “It’s late. I’ll walk you back and call you a cab.”

Goku held Sanzo’s hand, not too tight, and made conversation as best as he could. He tried to talk to Sanzo about restaurants he’d been to that were like some he’d been to, a girl he knew that wore a skirt like that one in that window, and even cheerfully wondering aloud if Nataku might have left him some ice cream for a midnight snack: “I have trouble sleeping when I’m excited, so I’m gonna want a snack!”

Sanzo, who had grunted assent or muttered facilitative responses all along, raised an eyebrow at this. “You’d seriously eat this late at night?”

“Sure!”

Sanzo rolled his eyes. “I suppose I already knew you thought with your stomach. Come inside while you wait for the cab.”

Koumyou and Toudai were gone, but a light had been left on over the kitchen sink for Sanzo. Goku waited, rocking on his heels at the border between the store and the kitchen, keeping one ear to the window for the sounds of a car on the silent, dark street. Sanzo rummaged briefly in the refrigerator, and returned to Goku with a paper package. “Peach buns. My father – Toudai – keeps a secret stash. Koumyou worries about his diabetes, so this will keep him from sneaking around for a while.”

Goku gaped in awe. “Thanks, Sanzo!” He took the first one out and popped the whole thing in his mouth, the tender, plush dough like a pillow on his teeth, and the pulpy filling coating his tongue with cloying sweetness. This was the real deal: pure peach puree. “Momo. I get it now.”

Even with a little space between the two of them, Goku felt Sanzo’s chest shake from the laughter trembling in his breast. “You get it now.”

Goku put the rest of the peach buns away, still grinning, and turned to Sanzo. “I don’t think I’m gonna call him that, but do you mind if I keeping calling you Sanzo?” Sanzo made a strange noise, and Goku quickly added, “Yeah, I’m just so used to thinkin’ of you as Sanzo, and you make a funny face when your dad calls you Kouryuu. So, is it okay?”

Sanzo was quiet and still again, but muttered, “Do what you want.”

Goku was starting to figure out that was Sanzo’s way of saying 'I like that idea.’ Maybe even 'I like you.’

Sanzo waited on the sidewalk until the cab pulled away with Goku safely in the back, before returning to the house. Koumyou was waiting on the stairs, smiling knowingly with his chin in his hands.

“Did you have a nice walk with your friend?”

“I don’t see why you’re so concerned.”

“I just love your smile.” Koumyou sighed as he rose to a stand, taking a pipe from his pocket. “Do invite that boy over again some time. I feel like he brightens you.”

Sanzo sneered to himself in the dark as Koumyou ascended the stairs again. “Don’t tell me what to do. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll break that pipe in half and leave me alone.” Koumyou merely giggled as he ascended to his living quarters, and Sanzo returned to the kitchen and promptly lit up a smoke.

The tobacco didn’t remove the trace scent of Goku from the room. Sanzo didn’t regret that. Goku was just like he’d thought: effortlessly cheerful, naturally vivacious, spontaneous. Everything he thought he’d be. He didn’t regret giving him a chance to prove it. Still, as he glanced to the photograph books left on the table, one still open to a photograph of him and Hakkai, he wondered if he might not live to if he let things go on any longer.

Still, he knew a smile stole over his face when he thought of that one quick kiss he’d given Goku. Thankfully, nobody else was around to see it. Damn if he would let Koumyou be proven right that easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Goku is singing is "Thinking Out Loud," by Ed Sheeran.
> 
> Oh, and Momo means "peach," hence why Goku finds Toudai's affinity for peach buns funny.


	8. Butterflies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gojyo takes Hakkai on a date, take two!

**8: Butterflies**

Autumn came on quick, but Gojyo found warmth every morning when he rolled over in bed and found a text from Hakkai. He’d send him pictures of the pastries and his own grinning face from arm’s length, and usually a “Good morning,” and “Would you like a chocolate or almond croissant today?” He’d never gotten this warm and fuzzy feeling from anyone he’d been with before, like the froth off of a latte gathered in his chest. Those little rushes he got when Hakkai touched his hand or looked at him a certain way, they all made him wonder if there wasn’t more to what they had than mere flirting.

He knew he hadn’t looked elsewhere since he’d met him. He wasn’t sure that he’d see anything he could possibly like better.

It was time to take the drop.

He pushed through the butterflies in his stomach and the foam in his heart to make the call: “Hey, babe, it’s me.” He twisted his hair in his fingers as Hakkai chuckled on his end.

“I have your name in my phone, I wasn’t expecting anyone else to dial from your number.” He heard Hakkai settle, likely sitting back in his chair, and Gojyo faintly heard the rustle of paper as he put his book down. “How are you this lovely evening?”

“Better now.” He grinned, knowing just how dopey he looked and completely unable to care. At least he was alone in the house. “I was just… uh… you said you’re off on Sundays and Tuesdays, right?”

“I am. And you take Sundays off, correct?” In the background, Hakkai's chair creaked – he had Hakkai’s attention.

“Yup.” Gojyo swallowed, wondering why his mouth had gotten so dry. He faintly realized he was pacing across his kitchen, and hoped Hakkai couldn’t hear it. “Uh, so, I was wondering if maybe you’d like to do something tomorrow?”

“Ah, my, I’m not certain.” Gojyo felt his chest seize, as Hakkai hummed. “I do my grocery shopping and clean around the house on Sundays usually, and I have to be in bed by nine… but… ah, my… If you wouldn’t mind waiting until the afternoon, I’d be free.”

His heart soared. “You got it! Maybe an early dinner? I know a place that’s got live music.” He pulled out the flier Goku had passed him. “Outdoor cafe type of deal, down in the historic section of the city.”

“It sounds nice enough. What’s the name of it?”

Gojyo scrunched his nose as he read the top of the page. “Papill… Pap-pill-lawn?”

“Cafe Papillon! I’ve been there before, and their autumn menu is fantastic.” Hakkai sounded pleased, if nothing else, and Gojyo sagged with relief. “I should be finished with my errands at four. Would you like to meet me there at four-thirty?”

“Sure. Sounds fine to me.” Gojyo exhaled, jitters running through him and out with his nervous breath. “Thanks.”

Hakkai chuckled again. “What for?”

Gojyo tightened up again. “Uh, y'know. Agreeing on such short notice.” He managed not to say “giving a putz like me another chance.” Hakkai probably wouldn’t have liked that. “So, see you tomorrow?”

“Yes, tomorrow. And, Gojyo, kindly remember that I’m always perfectly willing to make time for you. I’ll see you.”

“Yeah, see you.” Gojyo had stopped pacing, and now that he wasn’t talking, his face was hot and flushed and his stomach was swimming with nausea. He sank onto his sofa and put his face in his hands, rubbing his sweaty forehead off on the screen of his phone.

“He makes me such a mess,” he laughed to himself, and flopped back across the cushion. “Just gotta hold it together.”

Maybe when the butterflies went away and the foam settled, he’d be sure of what he was feeling. Maybe if they hung around forever, that would be an answer, too.

* * *

The Cafe Papillon was a white cottage-looking building just set off of the main street, with an outdoor eating area fenced in with black wrought iron and decorated with exotic-looking plants. A cellist was playing some sweet, soothing melody in a major key, the music wafting over the scents of warm food and crisp leaves. When Gojyo arrived, bundled in his favorite suede jacket to brace against the October chill, the first thing he noticed was the orange butterflies lazily hovering around the purple flowers bordering the fence. The second was Hakkai, already seated at a table for two and waving to him. Gojyo rounded the fence and slid into the open seat, his grin slipping into place, and Hakkai nudged one of the two mugs on the table towards him.

“I ordered you a coffee. I hope you don’t mind. Coffee with chocolate, no milk, no sugar, just the way you like it.”

“You remembered,” Gojyo chuckled, and took a sip. Sweet and bitter across the tongue, smooth down his throat. “It’s perfect.” He was about to go on, but Hakkai suddenly sneezed. “Gesundheit-” Hakkai sneezed in quick succession three more times, and Gojyo passed his paper napkin across the table. “Allergies much?” He looked at the flowers nearest their table as Hakkai cleaned his nose off. “I could ask ‘em to move us.”

“Oh, no, I’m fine.” Hakkai discarded the napkin and turned a smile back to Gojyo, his cheeks red. “I’ve had a bit of that today, I always get a little head cold when the weather gets chilly.”

Gojyo frowned and set his elbows on the table. “I had no idea.”

“I hadn’t told you. It’s fine.” Before Gojyo could push further, the waiter arrived with their menus. He presented them with a flourish, then flounced away, and Hakkai eagerly opened his. “Ah, they did bring my favorite soup back! I do adore their cream of butternut.” Gojyo looked over the menu, written in pretty font and with dry red leaves pressed into the paper, until Hakkai gently tapped the edge. “Can I make any recommendations?”

They made small talk until they ordered, but once the menus were gone and Hakkai had requested a fresh cup of tea (with mint and lemon, please), Gojyo put his elbows on the table and leaned in. “So, you made me think a little.”

“Did I?” Hakkai, hands folded on his lap, raised his eyebrows with intrigue.

“Yeah.” Gojyo grounded his feet and shuffled them a little, but put his chin in his palm and studied Hakkai’s face. “You and me, we’ve been seeing each other for what, a month and change?”

“We met about six weeks ago, yes.”

“Yeah, and I feel like I don’t know a lot about you.” Hakkai seemed to shrink when Gojyo said this, and Gojyo held both hands up. “I know you’re nice, and good-looking, and you treat me like I’m something special sometimes, but I feel like all I know about you is what you do for a living. I mean, I guess I know you get a little moody when the weather’s bad, but I guess I wanna know who you are. Who Cho Hakkai is when I ain’t looking.” He put his elbow down again, but reached across the table. “So, uh, I was thinking, maybe you tell me a little more about you.”

“On one condition.” Hakkai put his hand over Gojyo’s. “You should tell me things you want me to know about you.”

“I’m an open book, babe.” Gojyo grinned and sat back. “I’ll even go first. Uh.” His grin fell when he realized he had no idea what to say. “Maybe ask me a question?”

“Of course.” Hakkai rubbed his lower lip, his gaze falling for a moment, then he raised a finger. “What’s your favorite thing to do when you’re not at work?”

Gojyo chuckled a little. “Honestly? I don’t do much. I mean, I work pretty long days, so when I get home, most of what I do is eat something, maybe throw on a game show or a DVD of a show I like, maybe read a magazine, then sleep.” He tried not to think about his neglected apartment. “Sundays, I’ll usually go for a long jog, maybe go to the laundromat. Sometimes, I sleep in, too.” He grinned sheepishly, then gestured to Hakkai. “How 'bout you? Same question. I remember I saw you reading before.”

“I do love to read.”

“What do you love reading most?”

“Novels, of course.” Hakkai pressed his hand to his mouth, stifling a short laugh. “I have a few favored authors I follow closely. I also like to read cookbooks and baking magazines. They’re a good way of keeping on the pulse of trends.”

“Yeah?” Gojyo raised off his seat a little. “What else do you do?”

“Oh, my…” Hakkai trailed off for a moment. “It may sound strange, but I like to clean, preferably while listening to music. A tidy home is a happy home. Ah, and I occasionally attend opera.”

“Opera?” Gojyo imitated a monocle with his fingers, chuckling. “Man, you might be too classy for me!”

“No, no, certainly not. It’s a rare thing, especially since I’ve nobody to go with and late nights are difficult for me.” Hakkai took up his teacup and drank deeply, but Gojyo noticed his hand shake a little when he put it down.

“Well, I’ll go with you, if you’d like. You just might have to tell me what’s going on.” He fidgeted with his coffee cup. “Do you have family in town?”

“No.” Hakkai’s gaze dropped. “You?”

“A half-brother. We don’t talk much anymore, had sort of a falling out.” Gojyo wrapped both hands around his coffee cup, as Hakkai lifted his face to look at him over the rim of his glasses. “Uh. Long story. After Mom passed, he moved me in with him and his friends, but I was still kind of a young punk, and me and him squabbled. After a little while, I ran off with Banri.” He emptied his coffee cup. “Me and Jien only started talking again after we opened up shop, and after Banri ran out on me. Jien’s a mechanic on the other side of town, so we’re not in competition, so we talk shop sometimes, but not much else, and not often.” He shoved the mug away. “And he’s the only family I got.” He threw his arms out, smiling as much as he could, as Hakkai’s expression and posture tightened.

“I had a sister. She passed away a few years ago.” He turned from Gojyo and raised his hand to flag down their waiter, and Gojyo knew Hakkai was withdrawing.

“Uh! Hey!” His throat got tight for a second. “So, uh, what operas have you seen?”

Hakkai gazed across the table with a mild mien cast over his every feature, and Gojyo knew Hakkai had figured out it was an obvious change of subject, but after a moment, he gamely smiled and answered. “Most recently, Madama Butterfly. Apropos, really.” He gestured to the flowerpot nearest them, mostly obscured by butterflies. “The cafe always puts out flowers that attract butterflies. This time of year, they’re monarchs and swallowtails. They’re a sight to see, yes?”

“They’re real pretty.” Gojyo couldn’t meet Hakkai’s eyes, and pretended to be distracted by the butterflies. “I admit, I ain’t never been much for plants, or animals, or anything. I had a cactus once, but I killed it. Guess I ain’t much of a nurturer, y'know?”

“You may have not given it enough sun.” Hakkai passed his empty cup to the server as he came to the table. “It’s a common error.”

“Maybe. You garden?” Gojyo asked without thinking, before he remembered Hakkai’s pretty front yard and the flowers there. “Oh, yeah, you did have some out.”

“Yes, I keep seasonal annuals. I shall have to get my chrysanthemums next week.” Hakkai seemed to relax and sit up again. “I’d love to bring you over to see them.”

“Maybe I could go with you and help you plant, or something. I can lift heavy stuff, anyway, even if I ain’t got a green thumb.” Gojyo settled in again, smiling. “I always kind'a wished I were good at that sort of stuff.”

“I could teach you.” Before Hakkai could say more, the waiter arrived with fresh drinks and their meals, warm, golden soup with a wedge of pumpernickel for Hakkai, a sandwich stacked with thick sourdough, sliced turkey, cranberry sauce, and Brussels sprout slaw. With food that smelled that good, they both forgot briefly about conversation, and the pair of them tucked in.

They kept talking around their meals. Hakkai revealed that he’d backpacked in Europe for three months after dropping out of his pre-med program, working as a dishboy in pastry shops in Belgium, Switzerland, and France to get through. “I remember watching the chefs over the dishwater, reading their lips and trying to make sense of the French as best as I could.” He giggled into his soup spoon, and Gojyo noticed the steam collect on his glasses lenses in little swirls. Damn, the guy clearly had no idea just how cute he was, or he’d be doing this stuff on purpose.

Gojyo had to tell him something in return, but he couldn’t admit what he’d done before he got into his mechanic education program. All he could do was chuckle a little about his wild days with Banri. “The guy was a jackass, but when he was around, the two of us had a good time.” He waved his fork a little as he picked through his slaw. “He was around when I was a party drinker, and kind of a troublemaker. Plus, I was way more of a lazy ass. It’s been a rough change from sleeping from three to noon to twelve-hour days, six days a week, but damn if it ain’t more rewarding.” He sipped on his coffee as Hakkai hummed and tented his fingers.

“You work more in a week than some do in two. I admit I’m impressed, but I worry.”

“It’s just for now.” Gojyo looked into the bottom of his coffee cup. “Goku seems like kind of a dumb kid, but he’s a good worker, he just ain’t licensed yet. Once he is, I wanna hire him on full-time. I figure I can take another day off, maybe even trim my hours back.”

Hakkai took and swallowed another mouthful of soup, then dabbed the corner of his mouth. “Your garage has three bays. Theoretically, you could have three mechanics.”

“Mhm.” Gojyo shuffled in his seat, settling in his chair. “I ain’t sure the money’s there yet. Banri really left me in the lurch. I actually couldn’t even pay myself for like a month. It was pretty scary.” Hakkai frowned at Gojyo for a moment, then turned his gaze into his half-empty bowl. Gojyo sensed guilt and forced a grin. “Yeah, but that was a while ago. I’m getting more comfortable all the time, plus I’m getting a super good rep now!”

“Have you? I’ll have to make certain to recommend you. I know how quickly and how well you work.” Hakkai pressed his cheek into his palm and smiled across the table, but Gojyo felt Hakkai’s other hand touch his knee. “But perhaps you should consider closing one more day a week. I won’t say Tuesdays; that would be horribly selfish of me. I merely worry for you. You tell me little things like, 'I forget to eat,’ and that you only give yourself one day a week to rest, what do you expect from me?”

“I dunno.” Gojyo shrugged his shoulders, suddenly aware of how tense his back was. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” He chuckled. “Ain’t never mattered to nobody but me. It’s weird, having someone else…” He trailed off, but Hakkai, frowning, finished:

“Care?”

“Heh. Yeah. Care’s a good word.” He felt Hakkai’s hand squeeze his knee, then slowly release, and the tension seeped out of him. He sat back, already grinning again. “But hey, we’ll see how things are looking in a few months. I know for sure I gotta keep a slot open for Goku. That kid can handle his stuff like nobody’s business.” He took up his fork. “How about you? Any plans for expanding?”

They kept the conversation going around bites of soup or sandwich, an interruption from the waiter, a sneezing fit, and a brief debate over how much they wanted dessert. “You know,” Hakkai chuckled as he set the dessert menu back in the center of the table, “Inasmuch as I spend my work week creating sweet things, somehow in my free time I’m a bit reluctant to try those prepared by others.”

“Well, yeah, 'cause yours are the best.” Gojyo grinned earnestly, ear-to-ear and showing his teeth. “If you’re really hungry for more, we could always drop in.”

“Oh, goodness, no; if I set even a foot in the door, they’ll be tugging at my sleeve to do this or help with that. I have to rest some time.” Hakkai rubbed his forehead with his palm. “No, I’m actually quite satisfied with my meal.”

“Yeah, it was plenty.” Gojyo pushed his plate in and sat back. “You said they had a 'fall menu,’ so do they have, like, winter and spring menus, too?”

“It’s seasonal, yes.”

“I’ll take you back here, if you’d like.”

“I think I would.” Hakkai rested his elbows on the table and cleared his throat. “Were… were you still open to answer questions?”

“Oh, yeah, for sure.” Gojyo straightened himself in his seat. “What'cha got?”

“I was curious as to why you wanted to ask me questions.”

It nearly sounded like an accusation, but Hakkai still seemed so mild, more curious than anything. It helped Gojyo fend off a shiver. “Well, uh, I… I said I… I wanted to get to know who you were better.”

“Did it help?” Hakkai laced his fingers on the table in front of him, but Gojyo could feel his gaze piercing through him.

“I dunno.” Gojyo found his hands fidgeting under the table. “I know more 'bout ya, anyway, an’ you know more about me. And…” He trailed off, mulling it over in his mind. Hakkai didn’t break eye contact.

“And?”

“Ain’t nothin’ surprised me, honestly. I knew you were smart, like, really smart, like _educated_ smart.” Gojyo flicked a few strands of his hair back behind his ear, then crossed his arms in front of him. “And you’re classy, and clever, and… I dunno. I mean, with your…” He gestured nervously, as Hakkai continued to study him. He felt like one of Hakkai’s books, and he wasn’t sure what Hakkai was possibly reading. He’d never thought of himself as an open book before, but whatever was scribbled on his page couldn’t possibly be good. As it stood, Hakkai’s expression was mild, even as Gojyo tried to choke back any thought of Hakkai’s sister. “I dunno, maybe I should’ve waited for you to tell me things, when you’d want to tell me. I just like you a lot, so I wanna know everything about you.” He sucked in air, then blew out a heavy sigh and grinned. “Guess I was just being kind of stupid.”

“I don’t think so.” Hakkai shook his head, still smiling. “Ask me something else.”

Gojyo felt his smile falter, but scratched his head. He couldn’t risk asking something that might upset Hakkai, and Gojyo was starting to figure the guy just might be a minefield. Then, an idea hit him. “Last time I went to your bakery, you gave me a big slice of mille-feuille with my coffee. You said it was your specialty, which makes sense, since you named your bakery after it.” He threw his hands out. “So, what makes yours special?”

“Ohh.” Hakkai put his hands over his mouth. “You’re asking for my real secrets now, are you?”

“You know it.” Gojyo winked, then beckoned with his fingers. “I promise, I won’t tell a soul.”

Hakkai tittered into his cupped palms, then motioned for Gojyo to come closer. Gojyo leaned across the table, and Hakkai made a big show of putting his hand to his mouth and whispering: “Honey.”

“Honey?” Gojyo sat back in surprise, and Hakkai hushed him and motioned for him to lower his voice.

“Yes, that. Shh, it really is a secret.”

“No, no, you gotta tell me more.” Gojyo laughed and rubbed his hands on his thighs. “How’s that play in?”

“Mille-feuille is made with three layers of pastry dough, if you’ll recall. Each time I put a layer in the pan, I brush it with a mixture of pale honey and water, then put it under heat for a few minutes to dry it and caramelize it before I apply the cream.” Hakkai raised a finger – a habit Gojyo was starting to notice, something Hakkai did whenever he explained something, and an endearing something, at that. “This is a technique I borrowed from baklava, if I’m being truthful, but it makes the pastry dough crisp and a bit flaky on the initial bite, and it holds up better to the heavy Anglaise cream. The flavor of the honey is subtle enough to enhance the vanilla with a tiny spark of acid, too. I’ve won awards on it, but outside of the bakery, you’re the first person to whom I’ve ever told my secret.” He then folded his hands on the table. “But that’s not why it’s my specialty. It’s my specialty because it was Kanan’s favorite.”

Gojyo felt a jolt shoot down his spine. “Kanan?” As if he had to ask. The weight Hakkai put to her name told Gojyo everything he needed to know. Hakkai lowered his eyes, and laid it out plain:

“My sister. When she was near the end of her life, she couldn’t stomach most food, but she would ask me to bring her mille-feuille. I learned to make it and added honey because she liked honey. That way, I could always bring her a piece whenever I went to the hospital to see her, and guarantee a smile. It’s funny, though; that’s where I realized I’d rather make people happy with a slice of cake than watch them die, helpless to do anything but make it easier.” He balled his fist against his cheek, then laced his fingers in front of himself on the table. "The doctors and nurses saw her cake and asked if they could have some too. One doctor said he’d pay me for a full sheet. Everyone enjoyed it, and I think their kindness, their compliments and reassurances, are what got me through the end of her life.”

Gojyo put his hand on Hakkai’s. “That’s pretty brave of ya.” He wasn’t sure what else he could say. “It sounds like it got you to a better place than you were. I’m just happy you made it through.”

“Hm.” Hakkai was smiling again, however subtly. “And I’m happy my secret made you smile. Is it my turn again?”

Gojyo squeezed Hakkai’s hands. “Sure is.”

Hakkai mulled it over, but broke into another sneezing fit before he could speak. Gojyo held out his napkin, but Hakkai had a kerchief in his pocket. Gojyo could only wait for Hakkai to clear his nose, but before Gojyo could ask if he was okay, he bowed his head. “I’m terribly sorry!” His cheeks were rosy pink behind his kerchief and an embarrassed smile. “Perhaps a rain check on your secrets. I’m actually feeling a bit dizzy.”

Gojyo got up in a hurry and offered Hakkai a hand to his feet. “That’s no good. How’d you get here?”

“I walked.” Hakkai didn’t stumble, but Gojyo had his other hand ready to catch him as he rose, his palm resting on Gojyo’s. “It’s only half a mile to home from here.”

Gojyo whipped his keys from his pocket. “Let me give you a ride.”

Gojyo had parked four blocks away – town center got crowded on nice weekend afternoons – but he kept Hakkai’s hand tucked in his as they crossed sidewalks and crosswalks. Hakkai’s cheeks were still flushed, but he hadn’t started another fit and his steps were steady. It didn’t keep Gojyo from taking his eye off of him. Really, he always had a little trouble tearing his gaze away. “Thanks for coming out with me. Did you have a nice time, y'know, not counting the cold?”

“Yes, this was delightful.” Hakkai walked a little closer, and Gojyo noticed that their footsteps were in lock step. He also felt Hakkai’s hand trembling.

“Everything okay? You’re shaking.”

Hakkai nodded again. “It’s gotten cold, and this shirt’s rather thin.”

“Say no more.” Without a second thought, Gojyo pulled off his jacket and laid it on Hakkai’s back. “I know it smells like cigarettes, but it’ll keep you nice and toasty.”

Hakkai had stopped shivering when Gojyo took his hand again, but his cheeks were exactly as pink. “Thank you.”

When Gojyo pulled up to Hakkai’s house, Hakkai started to take the jacket off, but Gojyo put his hand on his shoulder before he could tug the collar loose. “Keep it 'til you get inside, you got a long sidewalk. I can pick it up from you next time I see you.”

“You really are too kind to me.” Hakkai tugged Gojyo’s coat a little tighter. "Do you help little animals lying in the middle of the road, too?“ Gojyo chuckled sharply.

"I’d drag a bleeding deer to a vet if I knew it wouldn’t gore me first. Maybe even if I was only half-sure.”

“Somehow, I believe you.” Hakkai unbuckled his seat belt and started to lean towards Gojyo, then stopped. “Ah, but if I am sick, perhaps I shouldn’t –”

Gojyo rolled his eyes before Hakkai finished the thought and ducked close to plant a kiss between his eyes. “I won’t get sick. I’ve got pretty thick skin.” He kissed across his brow, then muttered against his ear: “And even if I did get sick from this, I wouldn’t care.” Hakkai had his eyebrows raised when Gojyo settled back again, then he shook his head and stifled a laugh.

“You’re just too much.” He opened the car door and departed slowly, then bent down into the open door. “It was wonderful to see you. I’ll see you again soon, yes?”

Gojyo’s heart raced, but despite being pinned by his pulse, he grinned back. “Definitely.”

Gojyo waited in the car for Hakkai to get up his walk and to vanish into his home, his mind lingering on the same thoughts that had gotten him here in the first place.

He’d done it. He’d taken Hakkai on a date, and it hadn’t gone terribly. And he felt…

He felt something, alright. The butterflies at that restaurant might as well have chased him out, because he was being swallowed in a tornado of fluttery wings. His chest churned, a whirlpool, a maelstrom. That last little kiss had almost dragged him under.

If he was feeling what he thought he was feeling, then he wasn’t ready for the word yet. Even so, there was no turning back.


	9. Under the Weather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hakkai isn’t at the bakery one morning, and Gojyo has reason to be worried.

**9: Under the Weather**

Gojyo had meant to go for coffee on Monday, both because Hakkai’s coffee was the best and he rather wanted his jacket back, but he got overloaded at work and couldn’t do more than shoot Hakkai a few texts throughout the day. Hakkai got back to him fairly quickly, but Gojyo ended up crawling home exhausted and ending the night with just a “sleep good, dude.”

Tuesday was Hakkai’s day off. Gojyo sent him a text in the morning, and Hakkai didn’t return it for a while. He didn’t bother stopping by the bakery, because Hakkai wasn’t there and that asshole Sanzo probably was. Hakkai deserved his day of peace, so Gojyo didn’t bother interrupting him.

On Wednesday, all of Gojyo’s scheduled appointments were easy enough that Goku could handle them, and with Lirin to cover the shop, Gojyo felt no guilt in skipping out for coffee and treats. He cleaned his face before walking out and jogged the whole way, striding past the morning shoppers to the counter. Sanzo was there, as expected, and though he glowered past Gojyo, he gritted his teeth and ground out, “Your usual mooch combo?”

“Not mooching today.” He took a piece of paper from his pocket. “Goku wants a mocha latte with cinnamon on top, Lirin wants…” Gojyo had to check the paper. “Uh, venti mocha latte with quintuple espresso and double whip.” Sanzo snorted, and Gojyo choked back a laugh. “I know, I know, she’s like twenty, give her a break. But, for me, black coffee with cream today, a four-pack of the pumpkin caramel-chip muffins, and two minutes with the baker.”

Sanzo’s eyebrows twitched, but he typed the order in and turned to the machine, cups in hand. “I can do everything but grant you access to Hakkai.” Gojyo balled his fists, anger building as the espresso hissed into the cups, until Sanzo released the dispenser and finished his sentence. “He’s out today.”

“Really? Hell.” Gojyo crossed his arms in thought, then fished out his phone. Hakkai hadn’t answered his text from a few hours ago. “It’s Wednesday, ain’t it?”

“Yeah.” Sanzo sprinkled cinnamon onto the first cup and pushed it over the counter. “He’s sick. He can’t come in if he’s running a fever, he can’t risk making customers sick.”

Gojyo’s heart sunk through his gut. “He’s sick? Shit, he had a sniffle when I saw him Sunday, but—”

“It got worse. He went home early Monday, and he had to ask one of the bread bakers to cover him this morning.” Sanzo pushed Lirin’s confection, swirled high with whipped cream, towards Gojyo, then went to finish Gojyo’s drink. “He’s hoping to be back by Friday.”

Gojyo could barely hear him, because his heart had clawed its way back into his chest and was throwing a tantrum in his ribcage. He was thinking about what Hakkai had said about his sister. She’d died in a hospital. She’d been sick. “Does he get sick a lot?”

Sanzo sniffed, his lip curling. “Why are you so damn concerned?”

“Kanan.”

Sanzo went gray at the word, a strangled noise catching in his throat, before recovering with a click of his tongue. “He told you.”

“He told me she got sick.” Gojyo found himself drumming his fingers. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Will you calm down? Seriously. It’s a cold.” Sanzo folded his hands on the counter. “Kanan was sick, but what happened to her was practically the wrong end of a curse. Hakkai has a fever. He’s not going to die. He’ll be back in here by the weekend to make cow-eyes at you and leave you breakfast.” He stopped talking, because Gojyo had stopped listening. Gojyo was putting lids on all the cups in a frenzy, spilling coffee as he loaded the cups into a drink carrier, and trying to text with one hand. He slowly turned and loaded the muffins into the box as Gojyo tried to compose himself.

“I gotta do something, gotta do something.” He grabbed the box as Sanzo put it on the counter and threw down his money, then tried to stuff his phone in his pocket with the drink carrier balanced on his palm. Sanzo rolled his eyes again, but Gojyo didn’t notice as he got the box under his arm and whipped around to ask: “Hey, does Hakkai like chicken soup?”

“I don’t think he hates it.”

“Cool, thanks for nothing!” And with that, Gojyo bolted back out, hustling back down the sidewalk with his mind running faster than his long legs. Despite Sanzo’s (limp) reassurances, he couldn’t shake what Hakkai had said about his sister and immediately drawing the parallels.

He could only think of one thing to do: keep Hakkai from going any further down that unthinkable line.

* * *

Gojyo would have been terrified to knock on Hakkai’s door for the first time in any other situation. He’d never been in Hakkai’s house before, only seen it from the road. However, he had no time to take in the scents of the herb garden or the cute wicker porch furniture. All of that could wait. He knocked a few times, waited, then knocked again, his heart fit to burst from his chest. After a few minutes, there was a faint, incomprehensible reply from somewhere in the house, and a minute later, Gojyo heard the deadbolt click. The door cracked open, and Hakkai peered out, his face half visible as he took Gojyo in. Then, he opened the door a little wider. “Gojyo?” His voice was a crackle, his cheeks were fever pink, like poppies, and his eyes were bleary behind his smudged glasses. He was wearing a blanket around his shoulders like a cloak, and was a overall pitiful sight. Gojyo couldn’t imagine what he looked like to Hakkai: he was standing there, loaded down with plastic grocery store bags and a tote bag loaded with stuff he’d grabbed in a whirlwind run through his apartment after a frantic internet search, breathless from running up the walk. Hakkai was plainly and obviously stunned, but Gojyo put on his biggest grin. “I… uh.. heard you were sick, and all, so I thought I’d come over and… take care… of…”

It hit him just then that he had invited himself over and was trying to insist he be let in to nurse an adult man. The embarrassment swelled, and he slouched. “I just had this huge revelation that this was a really stupid idea and if you’d wanted me to come over and feed you chicken soup, you would'a asked. You didn’t even tell me you were sick, so you probably think I’m nuts.” He stepped back, the bags swinging at his side. “Uh, I guess… uh… feel bet–”

Hakkai opened the door a little wider. “N-no.” He extended a trembling hand and tapped Gojyo’s wrist. “Come in. I’m sorry about the mess, but please come in.”

Gojyo swallowed his nerves, but gathered himself and crossed the threshold. He wouldn’t dare look at this as anything else than Hakkai either being genuinely happy to see him, or just completely willing to accept the guy he was seeing showing up unannounced. He had no idea what Hakkai meant by “mess,” unless it was the waste basket overflowing with tissues, because Hakkai’s house was damn cute. The living room was decorated in cool hues, the walls white bordered with blue, the sofa sage green with blue pillows and currently dressed with a nest of blankets and books, and almost embarrassingly cute, but Hakkai led him to the kitchen. The kitchen was equally cute, with weathered white cabinets that looked like shutters. There were dishes in the sink and on the counter, but Gojyo moved the empty pots aside to set his bags down. Hakkai was disconcerted, wringing his fingers with his eyebrows knit up, but Gojyo couldn’t imagine why. He pushed the grocery bags back and broke open his tote first. “I’ll just start with doing the stuff I do for myself, just, for you now.” He turned to Hakkai with a roguish grin. “Hey, you’re supposed to be resting, right? Go get on back to your comfy spot, I’ll be there in a sec.”

Hakkai returned to his couch, though Gojyo heard the blankets rustling every few seconds as he twisted back to watch him around the corner. Gojyo joined him and knelt at his feet with his arms loaded: a big jug of orange juice, a bottle of cold medicine, and a microwaved towel. “I kinda jerry-rigged my own cold remedy when I was on my own.” He set out a dose of the medicine and opened the orange juice, then draped the warm towel over Hakkai’s head. “Lots of OJ, the best cold medicine I could find – seriously, this clears the sinuses like nobody’s business – and keeping my head warm.” He tightened Hakkai’s blankets around his shoulder, but he noticed a familiar patch of brown suede against Hakkai’s neck. He found himself grinning stupidly; Hakkai was still wearing his jacket. “You stay cozy here and I’m gonna make some soup, okay? I got a recipe.”

“Alright.” Hakkai shrank a little deeper into his blanket nest. “I was sleeping before, and I can’t guarantee I won’t fall asleep again.”

“Nah, you get your nap on. I’ll wake you up when the soup’s done.” Gojyo smoothed Hakkai’s hair from his face, then touched his forehead. He was burning up, and Gojyo withheld a wince. “It’ll only take a little while. I promise I won’t go snooping around.”

“Trust you,” Hakkai mumbled, and slumped into the sofa completely. Gojyo pushed the blankets down around him one more time before departing for the kitchen again. He heard Hakkai take the medicine and take a long gulp of juice, before curling back up with a soft moan. Gojyo knew how hard a cold could kick a guy’s ass. He liked to think that he could give Hakkai an extra set of fists to right back.

Gojyo got down to business, and was uninterrupted for couple hours. This gave him plenty of time to chop, stir, and cook. The next he heard out of Hakkai was a massive sneeze, followed by a coughing fit, and then a low, pained groan. He peered out into the other room to see Hakkai dragging himself to a stand, but busied himself at the stove again, stirring the pot. Hakkai trudged in a moment later, moving slowly, and Gojyo pretended not to look at him as he fished into the cabinet, then filled a kettle from the tap. He stopped at Gojyo’s shoulder after putting the kettle on, and glanced down into the pot.

“Is… that the soup?” He sounded like whatever was clogging his head up was steadily dripping down the back of his throat now, and as he peered in, his eyes watered. Gojyo nodded and gave the pot another stir for good measure.

“I put all sorts of good stuff in there, so you’ll get better fast.”

Hakkai stared owlishly into the pot for a moment. “What are those…” He gestured at some of the flotsam with a twitching finger. “Wisps?”

“Uh, that’s what happened when I put the eggs in.”

Hakkai cocked his head. “Eggs?”

“Yeah, I beat a couple of eggs and added that in. I figured eggs have lots of good protein, so that’s good. It just looks a little more like egg drop soup now.” Gojyo turned back to his bags of supplies to find his pepper, as Hakkai took the ladle and fished into the pot.

“Are there… tomatoes in here?”

“Yeah, the stewed canned kind. I Googled Vitamin C, since that’s supposed to be good for your health and stuff, and tomatoes have lots of Vitamin C.” Hakkai was still stirring, his eyes getting a little wider with each turn.

“There’s broccoli in here. And… green beans.”

“Yeah, broccoli’s good for ya, s'why parents make kids eat it. And the green beans came in this frozen soup mix I found.”

Hakkai dropped the ladle. “What else is in that pot?”

“Uh.” Gojyo glanced at the trash can. “I got the good chicken stock, the fancy organic low sodium stuff with all the banners and stars on the box, and cut up chicken meat, and the frozen soup mix, which had, like, carrots and peas and corn and turnip bits, and then the eggs and tomatoes and the broccoli and salt and pepper, and… uh…” He scratched his head and looked at the bags again, as Hakkai shook his head.

“No apples?”

“Nah, I figured fruit wouldn’t be good in soup. But usually when I make soup, I put everything in the fridge in there, but I thought it’d be rude to raid your fridge to do something nice for ya. So I just got all the best stuff.” He shrugged a little, as Hakkai finally turned away from the pot and fixed that studious gaze on him.

“Were there noodles?”

“Uh.” Gojyo’s heart sank a little. “There were supposed to be. But… uh…” He took a smaller pot from the back burner and opened it, revealing shells packed in as tight as they possibly could. “I got the whole box in here, but they got bigger in the water and now I can’t get them out. I was gonna try and get in there with a knife once they’d cooled off.”

Hakkai was shaking again. Gojyo shoved the pot to the back of the stove again and set his hands on his hips. “You okay? I ain’t a gourmet chef or nothing, but it ain’t that bad.” He paused, suddenly starting to read Hakkai’s expression. “Is it?”

Hakkai snatched Gojyo’s wrist, then slumped, forehead first, against him. His shoulders quaked, but then, he broke and laughed a wheezy, strained laugh into his chest. Gojyo, surprised, put an arm around his back to steady him, even as he stifled his laughter again. Gojyo could still feel it in his chest. He spoke in a haggard whisper when he composed himself: “Oh, Gojyo, Gojyo, no. It’s not bad at all. It’s wonderful. I’ll eat every bite.”

The kettle whistled a moment later, but though Gojyo had no intention of letting go, Hakkai backed off and poured the contents of the kettle into a cup with two teabags in it. Then, he worked the pasta out of the pot with a spoon and turned to the sink to rinse the pot. “I’ll handle the dishes later…” He trailed off when he found the sink empty, and the plates and pots gone. Gojyo followed his sightline and squeezed his shoulder.

“I got ‘em. I figured you were too tired to do 'em, so I handled the scrubbing. Plus, uh, I kinda scorched the bottom of one of the pots and I would'a felt awful leaving it for ya.”

Hakkai’s expression spoke of simple disbelief, and Gojyo found himself marveling at the clear expressions that Hakkai didn’t have the energy to mask with a mollifying smile. He whispered a faint, “thank you,” then returned his attention to his tea. “Is… is the soup ready?”

“I think so.” Gojyo pulled the ladle up and scooped some out with a spoon to taste. He smacked his lips, then grinned. “It’s hot and tasty. This is as good as eating’s gonna get.”

Gojyo carried the bowls to the coffee table in Hakkai’s living room and set napkins under them, then ushered Hakkai back into the blankets. “It’s most important that you’re comfy and cozy. And don’t you go worrying about trash and dishes and picking up, I got that covered.”

“You’re far too much.” Hakkai settled back into the blankets, and Gojyo perched on the floor across from him. “You don’t seem much of a domestic type either, if I’m being honest.”

“Truth be told, nah, I ain’t.” Gojyo chuckled as he dropped spoons into the bowls, watching as they filled with cloudy brown broth. “At home, I’m actually kind of a mess. I only have my sink empty 'cause if I didn’t empty it, I wouldn’t have anything to eat on or cook on. I don’t have a lot of cooking stuff, and only two plates and one cereal bowl. But I honestly just kind of look past the clutter when it’s mine.”

“Ah.” Hakkai didn’t sound surprised, merely smiling into his bowl. Then, he took up the spoon and took his first bite of the soup. Gojyo waited with bated breath, frozen in place, as Hakkai chewed and swallowed, then looked down into the bowl again. He took another bite, as Gojyo inched closer, his stomach pressed into the table, his hair falling over his shoulder.

“Well? Not bad, right?”

Hakkai considered the soup a moment longer. “No. It’s not bad.”

“Told ya.” Gojyo tossed his hair back and puffed his chest out as Hakkai took another bite, but deflated and leaned in again a second later. “Really?”

“It’s simple, but perfectly edible.” He stirred it, turning the broth over the noodles and vegetable chunks. “The flavor… ah… it doesn’t taste like anything, to be honest. But I haven’t been able to taste very much with my nose clogged. It’s completely serviceable soup.”

Gojyo wasn’t sure what to make of that. Instead, he slurped up a spoonful to form his own opinion. He considered it, and shrugged. “It’s soup. Tastes like soup, anyway.” Hakkai watched with mild albeit tired fascination as Gojyo shoveled a few bites down, then returned to his own meal.

Hakkai didn’t make much effort towards polite conversation, but Gojyo didn’t expect him to. Despite sleeping the afternoon away, he still looked wrung-out, with bags under his red, wet eyes, and the skin under his nose was rubbed red. When he finished eating, Gojyo touched the back of his hand to Hakkai’s forehead. “Feels like you’ve got a pretty good fever.”

“I just ate something warming; I’m actually beginning to feel better.” Hakkai adjusted himself in the blankets as Gojyo withdrew. “Although, if you could pass me the cough syrup, I’d be a step better.”

“You got it, babe.” Gojyo found the bottle Hakkai meant and passed it to him, and Hakkai poured himself a spoonful and swallowed. He shuddered the bitter flavor down, but watched as Gojyo gulped the last of his soup and carried the bowls out.

“Oh, er–” He extended a hand towards Gojyo’s back as he went into the kitchen, but dropped it when he heard the faucet come on.

“I’ll only be a second, okay? The soup’s too hot to put away, so I’ll do that once it’s cooled some.”

Hakkai, craning his neck back, could only wearily reply, “Thank you.”

With the washing-up done, Gojyo returned to Hakkai with a steaming mug of tea with the scent of mint rolling off of it in streams. Hakkai frowned at it, but Gojyo replaced the empty cup on the table. “I did it just like you did it. I learn by watching.”

“Thank you,” Hakkai repeated, his shoulders sinking as he took the cup from the table. “Why did you come over?”

Gojyo perched on the table, shaking his head. “Because you were sick. Duh.”

“How–”

“Sanzo told me when I went over for coffee. I’m a little surprised you didn’t text me.” Gojyo tapped his phone where it sat in his pocket. “Just, 'Hey, I’ve got a fever, I won’t be at work.’ And I would'a texted you something like, 'Do you need anything?’ And you probably would'a said, 'Oh, I’m fine, don’t worry,’ 'cept I would'a worried anyway, but I would'a at least asked before just sorta showing up at your door.”

“It really is a very kind gesture.” Hakkai bowed his head. “And I am sorry I didn’t let you know. I… I suppose I didn’t think to do so.”

“It’s fine. You had other stuff on your mind.”

Hakkai managed a wry smirk. “Mucus, mostly.”

“Gross.”

“I rather am right now.” Hakkai sniffled, then fished for a tissue and blew his nose. Gojyo didn’t even flinch as he fished the waste basket up from under one of Hakkai’s quilts and held it out for him. Hakkai dropped the tissue into it, shaking his head. “That’s part of why I was so surprised you came. I wouldn’t think you’d want to see me like this.”

“What, sick?”

“I’m somewhat hideous.” Hakkai huddled under his blankets, casting shadows across his haggard, wan face. “I’m not vain, but I know that you at least appreciate my looks. I look nothing like myself.”

Gojyo scoffed. “You kiddin’ me? You look like the same Hakkai, just a little under the weather. And really, if looks are what matters, then I look good enough for the both of us.” He tossed his hair and threw Hakkai a saucy wink, and Hakkai laughed into the blankets bunched around his chest.

“You’d look better if you weren’t saying so yourself.”

“Harsh; I’m joking.” Gojyo grinned and slicked Hakkai’s hair off of his forehead. “But, well…” He took a deep breath, then thumbed his chest. “I’m pretty sure I’m your boyfriend, and all, so it’s my job to make sure you’re okay.”

Hakkai had sat up when Gojyo had said 'boyfriend,’ eyes wide, glasses sliding to the edge of his nose. “Ah…” Gojyo quickly put his hands up.

“I mean, unless I’ve got this whole thing totally backwards and you ain’t lookin’ for a boyfriend, or–” He swallowed. “Or something. I mean– uh– shit–”

Hakkai slid his hand onto Gojyo’s knee. “You’re not at all mistaken.” Then, he tugged Gojyo’s pant leg. “Please sit next to me. You’re warm, and I’m freezing.”

Gojyo shifted to sit on the sofa next to Hakkai, and Hakkai leaned against him as if he would have collapsed without someone, something to hold him up. The cough syrup must have been kicking in. Gojyo put his arm around him and let him loll there, and Hakkai nestled as close as he could get. Gojyo let his fingers wander up into his hair, then threaded them through to massage his scalp, and Hakkai crumpled into him a little more. “Hey, you falling asleep on me?”

“Mm.” Hakkai shook his head and made a little noise indicating the negative.

“It’s okay if ya do. I’ll stroke your hair 'til you fall asleep, carry you to bed, and lock the door on my way out.”

“I know you would, too. It’s nearly absurd.” Hakkai shook his head again – or maybe he was just nuzzling his nose to Gojyo’s shoulder. “You’d sit here with me as I zoned in and out of fever dreams and dizzy spells, bring me water or tea, and nurse me back to health for nothing in return.” Gojyo frowned at him as Hakkai cuddled closer.

“Why’s it so crazy, babe?”

“Nobody’s ever done it for me before.”

Gojyo tightened his hold around Hakkai. “Yeah, well, I dunno who you were with before, and I don’t care, but they ought’ve treated you better. I ain’t never gone steady before, but I know that much.”

“Gone steady,” Hakkai repeated, chuckling. “Listen to you. I almost can’t believe I lucked into meeting you.” He sighed, then mumbled through the sleep in his voice, “You need to be more careful when you say those silly sweet things.”

“Oh?” Gojyo jostled him, just enough to try to rouse him. “Why’s that?”

Hakkai yawned, and shut his eyes against Gojyo’s chest. “Because I might really fall in love with you if you continue to be this wonderful.”

Gojyo’s heart raced, his chest seizing and squeezing, and it took a lot of effort for him to sound cool when he tried to talk again. “You think so? Guess I’ll have to be super careful. Say lots more of those things you like.”

Hakkai, clearly already tottering towards sleep, smiling against the skin of Gojyo’s neck. “Oh, you.”

Hakkai snuggled against Gojyo, quiet but for the occasional senseless mumble and a quiet request for cough syrup, and Gojyo could only smirk and spoon-feed him encouragement. (“Ah, but if I don’t get up, who’s going to… wash… the rosemary shrub…” “Pretty sure your plants are doing just fine without that.”) After a little while of hinting that Hakkai should probably sleep in a bed, Gojyo got the feeling Hakkai wouldn’t take himself to bed until he left. “Now listen, you, I gotta get home, but you gotta promise you’re gonna go sleep, like, laying down sleeping.” He tried to untangle himself from Hakkai, but Hakkai held tight for a second before releasing.

“You could take me to bed.”

“You’re damn right I could fling you over my shoulder, caveman-style, and put you there–”

“That’s not what I meant.” Hakkai seemed to melt against the sofa like ice left in sunlight, but he had a cheeky little smile that reminded Gojyo that under the cough syrup and head gunk, Hakkai was the same smart joker.

“Yeah, we’re not doing that.” He got up, then took both of Hakkai’s hands in his. “When I leave, you gotta go put yourself to bed. I ain’t gonna impose on you for an overnight when you’re this messy.”

“Mm. Fine.”

Hakkai waited, swaying on his feet but rousing from the renewed blood flow, as Gojyo gathered his things and made for the door. He kissed him on the forehead and opened the door. “Get some good, horizontal sleep. I’ll text you in the morning.”

“I look forward to it.” Hakkai put his hand on his chest and bowed again, then seemed to remember something, his chin jerking. He felt into the blankets wrapped around him, then tugged out the inside edge of Gojyo’s jacket. “Ah, this. It’s yours. You should have it back.” He moved to remove it, but Gojyo put his hands over Hakkai’s to stop him.

“Hold onto it. You need it way more than me. You can give it back when you’re feeling better again.”

Hakkai stopped trying to take the jacket off when Gojyo stepped back, stuffing his hands in his pockets, and bowed his head. “Thank you very much.”

“Anytime, babe.” Gojyo moved in for a goodbye kiss, but Hakkai tapped his nose.

“You really will get sick.”

Gojyo shook his head. “I’ve been here for the past while with ya. It’s too late for me.” He kissed Hakkai’s nose, then his brow, then brushed his lips to his mouth. “If we go down, we go down together.”

“And fighting all the way.” When Gojyo stood back, it was to Hakkai pink from something other than fever. He rubbed his own cheek as if to check for himself how warm he’d gotten, and Gojyo grinned to himself.

Here, Hakkai thought he was the lucky one. Hakkai didn’t have a goddamn adorable boyfriend, waiting in the door as he left like he didn’t want to take his eyes off of him for a second.

“I gotta do everything I can to hold on to you,” he muttered to himself when Hakkai finally did shut the door, and Gojyo waited for the living room lights to turn off before cranking the ignition.

* * *

Goku saw Gojyo hard at work with his head already under a popped hood as he bounded into the garage. “Jeez, boss, you really gave me a scare yesterday!” He yanked his jacket off as Gojyo grunted a non-verbal affirmation. “I mean, runnin’ in, all in a panic, droppin’ coffee everywhere, telling me I’m in charge the rest of the day, like, jeez, what the hell?”

“Hakkai was sick.” Gojyo’s voice sounded strained and raspy, and Goku peered around the corner of the thru-way as Gojyo stood up and rubbed his sleeve to his face. “I got worried 'cause I hadn’t heard from him, and went to go check on him.” He sniffled, and Goku took a few cautious steps into the garage.

“You, uh, you okay?”

“Yeah.” Gojyo heaved a sticky-sounding sigh, then leaned back into the car. “Nose is running. Sucks.”

Goku propped himself on the side of the car hood Gojyo was working in and studied his face. His cheeks were smeared with soot but the bit of clean skin left was rosy, and there were red tracks under his nose. “You caught it, huh?”

“Just keep your distance, monkeywrench.” Gojyo sucked snot back up into his brain, then groaned and rubbed at his nose again. “Damn it. It’s just a head cold, it ain’t like whatever knocked Hakkai on his ass, but it still sucks.”

“Eeeuww.” Goku backed away and waved the air nearest Gojyo back to him. “Sick.”

“Yeah, I know, shut up.” Gojyo smeared his sleeve off on the side of his pants and returned to the inside of the car. “If you’re here, that means it’s ten, now go return calls.”

“You really ought'a go home, y'know!” Goku put his hands on his hips, but Gojyo shook his head.

“M'fine. It’s a sniffle.” Gojyo sniffed again as if demonstrating, sucking up some viscous-sounding gunk. “'Sides, I ain’t showed you a full tranny install yet, have I? Talkin’ in class is way different from actually getting hands-on.” Gojyo flapped a hand out towards the table. “Kid, bring me the black toolbox off the table and keep an ear on the door. Just don’t get in my sneeze path and you’ll be fine.”

Goku turned around and spotted the toolbox Gojyo meant, and trotted over to retrieve it, clicking his tongue. “I dunno, you really ought'a rest. Did you let Hakkai know?”

“Meh.” Gojyo shrugged, then patted his side pocket where his phone sat. “He asked, I told him I was feeling a little stuffed up, but I was fine. I’m fine, kid, just watch me work and don’t breathe my air.”

Goku hummed his doubt, but joined Gojyo beside the car. Gojyo, for his part, at least looked content.

Nope, he was wearing whatever he picked up off of Hakkai with a stupid grin, like a badge of honor.


	10. A Table Set for Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanzo was enjoying a quiet evening at his fathers’ shop, but something unexpected is coming to dinner…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kindly note that my knowledge of mah jongg is cursory at best, but I know this: while it can be played with three, it's supposedly much better with four. Enjoy!

**10: A Table Set for Four**

“Yes, yes.” Sanzo grimaced as he heard Koumyou’s voice through the vent, and he yanked his earphone out of his ear and paused the music on his CD player to listen a little more intently. He knew his father’s preferred approach with big customers or large buys: take them into the “private office,” which was directly next to his accounting office, so he could hear every word of the conversation. Koumyou was laughing, likely appearing his usual charming self and greasing up the client for the home run swing. “I do appreciate your patronage, of course, but you must understand, for a purchase such as this, we put much on the line. I’m going to have to call our banker, Mr. Genjo. We’ve put a significant sum on the line restoring that triptych, you see–”

The triptych. Sanzo dug his reading glasses out and pulled the file up on their computer, but he recalled Koumyou bargaining his way into an inexpensive restoration on an artifact recovered from a temple fire. The real expense had been the damage to the gold leaf on the piece; they’d had to take a small loan for the repairs on that, with the painting itself on the line. The client was already griping about the listed price, but Sanzo closed the vent just as his cellphone chirped out a jaunty tune. (Damn the thing, if only he knew how to change ring tones.) He scooped the phone up and answered, “Dad, if you let them have it for a penny less than eight-thousand, we’re losing our shirts. The full investment on the thing came out to five thousand, and that interest is racking up.”

“Ah,” Koumyou managed a nervous laugh, “Mr. Genjo, in a pleasant mood, as always. The Tibetan triptych, you recall–”

“I recall. I’ve got the numbers in front of me.” Sanzo settled back in his chair and clicked back to the other window he had open, Hakkai’s ledger. Everything was coming down golden so far, but he had more work to do to be ready for the next quarter. “I don’t have time to play your game. Eight thousand’s the break-even. Try to get ten.”

“Yes, our client is offering nine-point-five.”

“Hn.” Sanzo sighed, pressing his glasses against the bridge of his nose. “Push for ten. We could use the profit, but if they’re firm on nine-five, then take it. I’d rather we not lose the chance to be rid of the thing. If it sits around, that interest will only compound. Call me when you’re ready for me to put it all through.”

Koumyou was obviously beaming on the other side of the wall, pleasantness exuding from his every word. “Understood. I’ll call when I’ve discussed with our client. Thank you.” He hung up, and Sanzo kicked the vent open again, turned his music back on, and returned to Hakkai’s ledger.

It was usually such a quiet job. Sanzo preferred it that way, even if he did feel ridiculous pretending to be the one holding his father’s leash and purse-strings. He was fine listening through the walls as his father genially, cordially negotiated deals with incredibly wealthy people, selling off their treasures. After all, Toudai’s medicine got more expensive every year, and as Koumyou sometimes joked, “We certainly can’t take it with us.” Sanzo hated the joke. He didn’t mind his role, though.

When evening came, Sanzo emerged from his office to find Koumyou peering out the front window. “Did you have an after-hours appointment?”

“Oh, no.” Koumyou flapped a hand, but didn’t turn from his spot. “Better.”

“Better?” Sanzo raised an eyebrow.

“Company!” Koumyou chuckled to himself, but turned to smile at Sanzo. “Would you care to join us, Kouryuu? We’ll have four for mah jongg if you do.”

“Only if you promise not to call me Kouryuu in front of whoever it is.” Sanzo’s nostrils flared as he folded his glasses, loosened his tie, and pivoted towards the stairs. Koumyou sighed.

“My, you’d ask me to call you by your surname in front of a friend of yours?”

Sanzo halted in place. “Friend?”

There was a knock on the door, and Koumyou gasped and hurried to fling it open. “Goku! You’re just on time!”

Sanzo felt heat blossom across his cheeks as Goku appeared on the threshold, a polka-dotted box balanced in his hand. “Of course, Mr. Sanzo! I’m never late for a meal!” Goku peered past Koumyou to Sanzo, and he grinned. “Hey! W-were you gonna stick around?”

“Yes, Kouryuu.” Koumyou turned to him, grinning in his habitual foxlike way. “Toudai was making stew, you know.”

Sanzo was struck dumb, a unique power only Koumyou had over him. “Father, you–”

“Well, you hadn’t called Goku lately–”

“And how do you know that?” Sanzo demanded, his tone charged with static.

“I checked your call history, dear." Koumyou crossed his arms as Sanzo clenched his fists and ground his jaw. "But you hadn’t called him, and gracious, someone has to flirt with the young man if I’m going to see grandchildren before I go completely gray.” Goku smothered a giggle behind his hand as Sanzo smeared his palm down his face.

“I can conduct my own…” He struggled with words for a moment, before spitting out, "Acquaintanceships. You don’t need to arrange play dates for me!“

"So,” Goku interrupted timidly, extending a hand like a shy schoolboy, “Did you want me to go home, or can I come in?”

Koumyou whipped right back around to him to clasp and pat his hand. “Why, I invited you! Of course you can come in. After all, it’s my home, and I’ll invite over whosoever I want." 

"Well, yeah,” Goku hesitated, his gaze resting on Sanzo, then dropping to the floor. "But I’m still just Sanzo’s customer, so if he–“

"Don’t say stupid things.” Sanzo pulled the buttons on his vest loose with a swift, practiced motion, and tossed it up the stairs as he sauntered towards the kitchen. “I’m off the clock. Take your shoes off and get comfortable.”

Goku started, then grinned at Koumyou as Sanzo vanished into the next room.

“I, uh, I guess that went as well as expected. Thanks for inviting me.”

“Don’t mention it.” Koumyou waved a hand and closed the door behind him. “Let me have your coat, I’ll put it up. You seemed surprised that Sanzo was here.”

“Well, I thought you invited me to see you!” Goku’s cheeks were all pink already as he worked his arms loose from his jacket, keeping the box in his hand balanced as he switched it from palm to palm, but he chuckled to himself. “We talk a little, but I don’t make eyes at him while he’s on the clock. It’s pretty hard, ‘cause I get all tongue-tied when I do try to talk to him. It’s kinda hard to tell if he likes stuff, y'know?”

“Ohh.” Koumyou stifled a giggle as he threw Goku’s coat onto a hook. “I think you’ll find him a little easier to read than he lets on. Now, whatever is in the box?”

“This box?” Goku held the box up as he naturally moved to follow Koumyou on a careful path through the treasures and antiques in displays around the room, and as Koumyou dimmed the lamps as they passed through. “I asked Hakkai about stuff Sanzo had never bought or tried, and what he might like. He gave me some stuff for you and Mr. Toudai and Sanzo, only he made me promise I wouldn’t let Mr. Toudai have too many.”

“That sweet boy, minding my Momo by proxy! Don’t you worry, I’ll watch him.” Koumyou paused, pursing his lips. “And you said you asked after Kouryuu, too?”

Goku’s blush brightened. “Well, yeah, except he’s still Sanzo to me, 'cause that’s how he goes in the bakery. Hakkai says they’re friends, and he still calls him that.” He fidgeted, his fingers locking and fidgeting against one another. “I dunno, y'know? I guess I want him to have things the way he likes them. If he says he wants to be called that, I don’t wanna tell him I won’t.”

“Oooh.” Koumyou clicked his tongue and hit the final lightswitch as they reached the threshold. “You’re going easy on him.”

In the kitchen, Toudai was at the stove, stirring a pot, and Sanzo was setting the table for four: napkins, forks, and spoons. Toudai glanced away from his task for a scant moment to smile at Koumyou. “Kouryuu tells me we sold that triptych.”

“For a neat profit, too.” Koumyou sauntered over to him and pressed a light kiss to his cheek. “How did your appointments go this morning?”

“Precisely as expected. We can discuss all that later.” Toudai glanced back again as Koumyou backed away from him, pursing his lips with disappointment. Goku realized the big man was staring right at him, and swallowed. “Goku, wasn’t it? I was told we were having company.”

“Yes sir,” Goku squeaked. As imposing of a figure Toudai was, he felt even smaller than usual. Toudai examined him like he might a truffle, then smirked.

“Not sure where you got the idea I was a 'sir.’ Sit down, guest gets his choice of seat.” Goku scampered to take the same seat he had last time, and Toudai tapped the counter. “Kouryuu, guest gets served first. I’ll bring the last two over.”

Sanzo grumbled but came and took two bowls from the counter as Toudai dished out, and he set the more full of the two bowls in front of Goku, and Goku gawked at the chunky stew, with visible lumps of carrot and lamb over pearl-bright couscous. “It’s lamb tagine. Moroccan in origin. You would think he’d cook something more general in tastes for company, but he enjoys African cuisine.” Sanzo clicked his tongue as he eased down into his chair. “This is just how he cooks.”

“What does Mr. Koumyou usually make when it’s his turn?”

“A giant mess,” both Toudai and Koumyou volunteered, prompting a happy giggle from Koumyou and a snort from Toudai as they joined the table.

“Kouryuu and Toudai share cooking duties,” Koumyou added, as Toudai grabbed his medicine bottles from the counter behind him and started sorting out pills. “But Kouryuu’s tastes are lighter and simpler–”

“You can tell him I’m boring.” Sanzo sneered into his bowl. “I make rice with green tea and cook chicken in the pan with a little salt and pepper. That’s it.”

“Rice with green tea sounds pretty good, actually.” Goku grinned, bouncing where he sat. “I love trying new stuff! And this tagine smells fantastic!”

Toudai chuckled appreciatively, putting his bottles aside. “It gets the neighbors’ attention if I leave the window open. I feel like I’m missing something from when I ate it in Libya, but I can keep trying to match it. Enjoy.”

Goku dove in with enthusiasm, missing Koumyou’s attempts to make small talk with Sanzo and Toudai’s quiet chiding of Koumyou about the same.

“… Pestering him won’t make his day any more interesting. The young man works with you half the day, for goodness’ sake.” Goku lifted his nose at this, and dabbed sauce from around his mouth before asking:

“How does that work, anyway?”

Sanzo opened his mouth, but Koumyou quickly, spiritedly answered, “Kouryuu works at the bakery from six until noon most days of the week, and then he comes home to help me. We close shop around six unless we have private appointments, which we occasionally do.”

“Oh, it’s kind of like Gojyo, with his crazy six-to-six schedule.” Goku wrinkled his nose. “Y'know, I always give him grief about that, but…” He glanced cautiously to Sanzo. “If it works for ya, I guess it’s okay.”

“I like to keep busy,” Sanzo muttered. “I’d be bored without something to do.”

“Well, you could do stuff that’s not crunching numbers and making coffee.” Goku shrugged and shuffled his lamb around the bowl, coating it with little beads of couscous. “Gojyo likes jogging and working out on his day off, but I think exercising alone is boring. Me and Nataku play soccer with a rec league sometimes. Do you like soccer?”

“I detest sports, and who’s Nataku?” Sanzo put his fork down. Goku, not quite seeing the danger in Sanzo’s narrowed glare, chuckled.

“My roommate. I told you, remember? Me and him have known each other since forever. He’s going to college for…” He realized Sanzo’s cheeks were getting red. “Also, he’s totally not into guys, so you got nothing to worry about if that’s why you’re making that face.”

“Kouryuu, really.” Koumyou prodded his side, as Sanzo bit his lip and his color went from flushed to an embarrassed pink. “You know, I have told Kouryuu he could cut back the time he spends here. I can handle most of it. We could hire a separate accountant, even, so you can devote all your time to the bakery and your own pursuits. You really do need some hobbies.” Sanzo was starting to turn red now, and Goku had to say something.

“Mr. Koumyou, I think you’re making him uncomfortable.”

Koumyou put a hand to his lips, as Sanzo sighed with what sounded like relief. Toudai snorted, and Goku felt his big elbow against his forearm. “Koumyou, I’ve warned you not to push him.”

“I know, but he’s my little baby son, I can’t help myself.” Koumyou sighed, but his gaze settled on Goku. “You play soccer, do you? And your friend?”

“Yeah, it’s sort of an informal thing. Nataku’d never get out if I didn’t drag him, he’s way too into his studies sometimes.” Goku picked at his stew, chewing and swallowing as Koumyou observed him and ignored Sanzo’s pointed glare. “Nataku wants to be a police detective, so he’s getting a degree in forensics with a focus on criminal stuff. I don’t remember all the details, only he studies a lot and then babbles a whole bunch of science stuff when I ask him about it. I don’t understand a lot of it, but he’s tellin’ me about how he’s gonna learn to catch the bad guys. I know he’s good at that, but I worry, 'cause he’s this super-shy, quiet sorta guy, and even though he wants to have friends, he has trouble just going out and talking. So I like to take him places.” He rubbed the back of his head. “I feel a little bad, since we’ve both been busy, we haven’t gone as much.”

“How kind of you to include your introverted friend.” Koumyou winked at Sanzo, but Toudai cleared his throat and pushed his empty bowl back.

“What about you, young man? What are you in school for?”

“I’m doing a mechanic apprenticeship program.” Goku beamed with pride, as Toudai shot Koumyou a questioning look which he seemed to ignore. “It’s a two-year program, and I’m in the full apprentice stage right now. Gojyo took me on in May after the first semester ended, so I work in his garage thirty hours a week, and me and him are a super good team! He’s showing me how he runs his business and how he fixes stuff. He pays me for my work, too, and he says he’ll hire me on full time when I get my certification.”

“How nice!” Koumyou nodded to Toudai, who settled back into his chair with a small frown, "It’s good to see a young man like yourself so eager to go into a career.“

Goku shrugged and laced his fingers over his empty plate. "I like cars, and I like taking things apart and putting 'em back together. It made sense. I’m not so hot with books and facts. Practical stuff comes more natural to me.”

“It’s good work,” Toudai muttered, and pushed his plate away. “Honest work. Someone will always need something or other fixed, and as long as you’ve got two hands to fix it with, you’ll be busy.”

“Yeah!” Goku could almost feel a sort of grudging respect from Toudai at that. He hopped up, taking his empty plate with him. “Would you like some help doing the dishes?”

“Oh, no, no, you’re our guest!” Koumyou slid to a stand and gathered his empty dish, as well as Sanzo’s (which was not empty, but Sanzo had stopped picking at it). “We’ll handle the dishes in a little bit. Kouryuu, would you kindly wipe up the table? I’ll fetch the tiles. Goku, have you played mah jongg before?”

“Oh, sure!” Goku let Koumyou take his plate and slowly lowered back down, fidgeting under the table. “In the foster home, we played sometimes. I wasn’t great at it, but I still had fun.”

Both Koumyou and Toudai had started then stilled when Goku said 'foster home.’ Toudai twisted around in his seat, and Koumyou set the plates down to study Goku again. “We never did ask about your family, did we?”

“Nope. But it’s no big.” Goku keenly felt Sanzo’s gaze settle on him. “Uh, I don’t have one. I was kind of found when I was a kid, and grew up in foster care. If I had a family, I don’t remember.”

Koumyou suddenly looked incredibly hurt and angry, but he pushed it down to mere displeasure with a sigh. “You poor soul.”

“Oh, it’s never been a problem! Nataku was in foster care too, after something happened with his dad. I think he went to jail, I dunno. But all my friends were fosters, and I get along okay. It’s not so easy now that I’m out of the system, 'cause the stipend the foster house gave us isn’t much, but we’re doing okay. Me and Nataku have a place together and there’s usually enough to pay all the bills, unless something unexpected happens. It’s actually super helpful that Gojyo’s paying me, it’s basically totally covered the little gap we had.”

“That’s not what he meant.” Toudai’s voice was a rumble, one that practically shook the room. Sanzo, however, scoffed.

“You two couldn’t possibly adopt every foster baby in the city. Quit pitying him. He’s doing just fine.” He stepped up from the table. “Let me get the damn set.”

Goku wasn’t sure what else to do but sit back and wait for Koumyou to do the clearing-up, fidgeting and try not to stare at Toudai in the tense quiet, as Sanzo retrieved a wooden box of mah jongg tiles from the shop. “It’s funny,” Toudai remarked as Sanzo pulled off the lid, and nodded to Goku. “Those tiles? Take a look.”

Sanzo clicked his tongue but passed a tile to Goku. They were cold to the touch, and the symbols were engraved and enameled rather than painted in. Goku didn't have to be appraiser to have an opinion: “They’re super nice.”

Sanzo scoffed at Goku’s assessment, but Toudai looked oddly pleased. “They’re genuine marble. I purchased them in Szechuan province when I was there for a competition.”

“Ohh, wow!” Goku grinned, as Sanzo looked mildly disgusted and settled down in his chair again.

“Alright, what’s in the box you brought?”

Goku remembered the pastries, and went for the box behind him. “Oh, yeah, here!” Toudai leaned in with interest as Goku retrieved the box from behind him and opened the lid. The scent of sweet sugar came first, but Sanzo gave them a cursory look and sniffed.

“Biscotti?”

“Hakkai said you’d never tried 'em or brought 'em home to your dads, so he said maybe you’d like to try something new!” Goku snapped up one of the long, thin cookies and wiggling it like a cigar. “He gave me the three most popular flavors, almond-vanilla, dark chocolate with frosted walnuts, and cinnamon swirl.”

“My.” Toudai’s eyes gleamed, and he leaned in with a covetous expression, his gaze bouncing from cookie to cookie. “They all look delightful.”

“Ah-ah!” Koumyou skidded back from the sink and hooked Toudai’s collar in his finger. “If you’re going to eat one, you need your insulin first.” He tugged a few times. “Come here, come here.” Toudai grumbled and hefted himself to a stand, trudging away to the sink as Koumyou went to fetch the medicine bottle and needles, and Goku held the biscotti in his hand out to Sanzo.

“Here, I asked him to give me these. They’re his favorite, the lavender-lemon.” He showed the light purple frosting drizzled across the smooth surface of the cookie. “It’s like your eyes.”

Sanzo raised an eyebrow. “I don’t like sweets that much.” Goku bit his lip and started to withdraw the cookie, but Sanzo sighed, caught Goku’s wrist to bring his hand back towards him, and took a bite off of the end of the cookie. It had a crunchy, solid bite and a dense crumb, and though the lavender dressing was sweet, the lemony tang of the cookie made his mouth water. “Ah.” He flicked his tongue across his lower lip to catch some of the crumbs, and Goku brightened and arched forward in his chair.

“You like Hakkai’s sweets, though.” Sanzo’s eyebrows raised, and Goku could see embarrassment plain in his tightly-drawn mouth. “I don’t blame ya! His are the absolute best.”

“Right you are!” Toudai hustled back to the table, smearing a bandage over his arm and rolling his sleeve back down as he sat. “Pass me that box, young man, I’d love to try one of each.”

“You will have one,” Koumyou warned, his tone still sing-song as he finished drying his hands and settled into his chair. "Now, who’s dealing first?”

“I will,” Toudai volunteered, and he took the box of tiles back. “Pass me a biscotti, young man.” Goku happily held the box out, and Toudai selected one, then gestured to the tiles. “Now, as I had been saying: These tiles there? They were the first gift I ever sent to Koumyou.“

"The first of many,” Koumyou added with a bright giggle, and Goku could feel his legs swinging under the table. “Momo and I were school friends, but he was always the big stoic oaf loitering in that chair there. He was always this great, big statue of a man.” Koumyou outlined in the air around Toudai’s shoulders, indicating how broad he had been. “Quiet and serious. But he didn’t talk to me very often, not even when we were in college together.” Sanzo looked utterly bored by his father’s pleasant drivel, but Goku nudged his foot under the table, and when Sanzo looked, he wiggled an eyebrow at him and held out another cookie. “However,” Koumyou went on, ignorant of Goku winking at Sanzo, “Before he signed up with the international track team, he insisted on taking my address!” Koumyou pressed both hands over his mouth, as Toudai shifted uncomfortably and turned his face towards the floor. Goku, meanwhile, edged the cookie stick closer to Sanzo’s mouth. “Then, one day, packages start arriving at my door from overseas!” Sanzo bent down and took a bite of the cookie, as Koumyou swayed and gestured, “All with little notes attached, 'Thinking of you, this reminded me of you. This looks like something you’d like.’ When he came home, I insisted on thanking him by taking him out to dinner, and things escalated from there.”

“Things were different back in our youth.” Toudai drummed his fingers on the table, his deep-set eyes lingering on Goku, who quickly drew his hand away from Sanzo. Sanzo turned his face away as he chewed. “We couldn’t simply go up to someone we found attractive and woo them.” He shot a glance to Koumyou, and Goku took the opportunity to hold the rest of the biscotti out to Sanzo. “Even if Koumyou seemed dreadfully obvious as to his preferences, one could never be certain. I had fancied him since we were young, but it wasn’t until college I thought it could possibly be more. That he called me up the moment I returned to the country to thank me profusely for every gift I’d sent and invite me to dinner was a good sign.”

“We were inseparable from there.” Koumyou turned his face to Toudai, and it was never more obvious to Goku that he’d only ever had eyes for him. He looked more earnest when he was looking at Toudai. This worked neatly for Goku, because Sanzo was taking the other piece of the cookie from Goku, and Goku took the opportunity to let Sanzo lick the crumbs off of his fingers as Koumyou batted his eyelashes at Toudai. “We had to be very discreet, but we carried on carefully for, gracious, decades.”

“Honestly,” Sanzo muttered, “If I wanted to hear ancient history, I’d go to a lecture. Are we playing or not?”

“Ah, of course, you’ve heard our silly love story a dozen times.” Koumyou giggled, and scooped up the tiles. “Wipe the crumbs off your face, and I’ll deal.”

Sanzo’s ears turned bright red, and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and shot Goku a glare. Goku managed to keep his snicker silent, but he couldn’t hide a victorious grin: Koumyou had been right. Sanzo was a lot easier to read than he’d thought.

Especially when the tiles were dealt, and Goku felt Sanzo’s fingers tapping his thigh under the table. He caught Sanzo’s eye, to see Sanzo had been watching him from behind his tiles, and he nodded towards the box again. Both elder Sanzos were busily arranging the tiles in their hand, and didn’t seem to notice Goku selecting another biscotti from the box, breaking it in half, and offering the larger half to Sanzo. Sanzo ate it from his hand in one bite, and Goku watched, gratified, as he licked his lower lip clean. There was a trace of a smile on his face, and Goku’s heart skipped a beat at that last flick of Sanzo’s tongue across his lip.

He didn’t even realized Koumyou was calling his name: "Goku, it’s your turn.”

“Oh! Uh.” Goku turned his attention to the tiles in front of him, and realized that while he’d seen the symbols and everything before, he hadn’t the first clue what any of them meant. His memory of the game wasn't nearly as good as he’d thought. “Oh man.”

“Hm.” Goku felt Sanzo’s shadow touch his shoulder for an instant. “It looks like if he puts the tile fourth from the left on the North, it could cause some problems.”

Goku quickly moved his tile, and Sanzo grabbed a piece of paper to mark Goku’s score. “That’s Pung. Well played.”

“Of course, because you played it,” Koumyou teased with a sly grin, and Toudai huffed.

“If you wanted to play teams, then say so.”

“He himself said he hasn’t played since he was younger, and he’s playing against you old farts who’ve played so many times it’s a wonder the tiles haven’t worn out.” Goku felt Sanzo’s hand at his leg again, but this time, it was a sinewy palm pressed on his thigh. “It’s not an easy game, especially against two veritable masters.”

“You flatter me, dear.” Kouymou giggled, then returned to the tiles in front of him. “But you’re no rookie, either.”

“We taught Kouryuu, growing up. It was one of the nicest parts of expanding our family.” Toudai smiled wryly, but this elicited a sigh from Koumyou.

“We would have happily taught you, too.”

“Father.” Sanzo’s tone held warning, but Koumyou blustered right through it as he tapped the table at Toudai’s elbow.

“Go ahead, dear. And I won’t lie. We really would have, had we only the chance.” Koumyou turned his whole body to face Goku, his shoulders still loose and his face smiling, but something grave in his expression made Goku feel like he suddenly was talking to a very old man.

“Well, uh… I… appreciate… it?”

“We only were able to adopt Kouryuu by the slimmest of technicalities,” Toudai muttered, bowing his head as if he were looking at his tiles, but Goku could see him instead studying his own palms. “It was illegal for a homosexual couple to adopt, and very tricky for a homosexual man posing as a lifelong bachelor. Koumyou was only approved because of his career, and therefore viewed as equipped to handle a child who came from… difficult circumstances.” He heaved a sigh. “Koumyou wanted more children, especially because Kouryuu was such an easy child–” Sanzo barked a short laugh into his palm, then noticed that Goku was holding his hand out close to the table to show the other half of the biscotti while Toudai and Koumyou were looking down. Toudai sneered at the table, and Sanzo took the cookie, making sure to brush his fingers against the center of Goku’s palm as he did. “It wasn’t possible. Even when laws changed, we couldn’t risk adopting again for fear that the officials would take a closer look at Kouryuu’s adoption and decide it was invalid. A damned shame.” He put his tiles down on the west. “That’s Kong. Keeping score, Kouryuu?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sanzo quickly swallowed and marked the points down. “Got it.”

“Excellent. Rebuild the walls.”

The tiles went back to the center of the table, and Sanzo and Koumyou mixed them and distributed them. It gave Goku time to gather his thoughts under the clatter of stone against wood. “Y'know,” he said, after a moment. “I think it’s okay you didn’t adopt me. Well, anyone, but especially not me.”

“Oh?” Koumyou raised both eyebrows, smiling as he pushed his piles to the center to start building the walls. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, for me, it’s 'cause I got to meet him now, and see how nice he is. We wouldn’t be friends like we are if we were brothers.”

“Friends, right,” Toudai snorted, and Sanzo’s ears turned pink again. Goku nudged his knee with his own, and turned back to Koumyou.

“As for adopting anyone else, it’s cause Sanzo came out like he did, and he’d be different if he had a brother.”

The room suddenly fell strangely silent, as all three Sanzos stared back at him without words. The silence was broken by the distant sound of the front door opening, and Koumyou jumped to his feet.

“Goodness, I was certain I’d locked that.” He called into the shop: “Who’s there?”

Goku heard a chilly, stiff laugh, and both Toudai and Sanzo rose, their fists clenched, as someone answered: “It’s just me, Dad.”

Koumyou took a step back as another man entered the room, someone Goku had never seen before. He wasn’t as old as Koumyou or Toudai, but much older than Sanzo, and he held himself with a strange, careless sort of confidence. He slouched, but smirked behind his wire-rimmed glasses, and he brushed a streak of jet-black hair from his forehead and adjusted his jacket. “Honestly, you’d think you’d forgotten you had a son.”

“Ken'yuu, I told you!” Toudai stormed a step forward, teeth gritted. “You are to call first. We have asked you to respect our boundaries.”

“I thought I asked you to call me Nii.” Nii crossed his arms and shook his head. “Or are you forgetting things now, too? Something else on your laundry list of ailments?”

Toudai’s fist shook, and Goku realized Sanzo had positioned himself in front of him. Koumyou, however, spoke before Toudai could explode: “Nii, dear, let’s not be rude. We really do prefer if you call first, and it’s very late for a visit. Why don’t I see you out, and perhaps we can talk tomorrow.”

“Is it so weird for a man to drop in on his parents? You already seem to have company anyway. What’s one more?” Nii draped himself into a chair, and motioned for Toudai and Koumyou to follow suit. “I don’t need tea, though I will take one of those cookies.” Nii reached for the box, but Sanzo shut it and held it out of his reach.

“What do you want?”

Nii’s expression seemed to spark, from what Goku could see, and his smirk spread. “Kouryuu, really. You don’t mind them making all this fuss over you?”

“That doesn’t matter. They asked you to call and talk to them first.” Sanzo put both hands on the table, but Goku saw his shoulders shaking. “They want to meet in neutral locations. They don’t want you and I to talk. Get out.”

Nii looked disappointed, but it was such a deliberate expression that Goku was sure he’d just practiced it while watching telenovelas. “But I wanted to talk to you. I’ve missed you, you know? After all, I’ve only got the one little brother.”

Toudai lunged, but Koumyou held him back, whispering just in the periphery of Goku’s hearing, “He’s doing alright, give him a chance.” Sanzo didn’t budge,  his elbows locked, and he shifted his weight forward.

“What do you want from me?”

“So harsh.” Nii laced his fingers in front of him. “No 'how have you been,’ or 'how is work?’ I’m fine, by the way.” He glanced back to the elder Sanzos. “Work’s fine. College professors keep weird hours, you know, but I figured you’d still be awake after I got done for the day.”

Sanzo’s words came out like a knife to the chest: “Get to the point.”

Nii tried to look hurt, but Goku could only see disgust in his curled lip, and he swiftly parried, “If I must. I’ve been trying to get in touch with Hakkai. I know you still see him. I’ve heard he was in trouble, and I’m concerned. I’ve had no luck contacting him, but I know you still associate with him.”

This sent Toudai from Koumyou’s grip, and he slammed his drawn fist on the table next to Nii. “The young man made his wishes clear! We taught you better than this!”

Nii turned his languid, insolent stare back towards Toudai. “You taught me to take care of those I care for, didn’t you?” Toudai bit back rage, even as Koumyou took his arms and tried to hush him, and Nii twisted back around to Sanzo. “A working phone number. That’s all I want.”

“You won’t get it from me.” Sanzo crossed his arms, his back arching over the table. “Hakkai never wants to talk to you again. I intend to respect his wishes, even though you clearly don’t.”

“You’re cruel, Kouryuu. And even in front of your…” His gaze flicked to Goku, then held like a flame catching the edge of a newspaper. “Oh. Oh, you didn’t tell me you were seeing someone.” Nii rose and extended a hand across the table towards Goku. “I’m Ukoku Nii, Kouryuu’s older brother. Adopted, of course.” He smirked for a second at Toudai, then cocked his head as he fixated on Goku, an archer towards a bullseye. “May I have the pleasure?”

Goku shoved up to stand next to Sanzo. “Son Goku.” He kept his hands tight at his sides. “And I’m gettin’ the feeling you ain’t that much of a pleasure.”

“You were talking to me,” Sanzo growled, and drew himself up tall. “There’s a damned good reason Hakkai doesn’t want to talk to you, and you know it. Don’t call the bakery. He won’t answer. He’s changed every other number he has. Leave him alone.”

“Yeah!” Goku cheered, grinning past Sanzo’s elbow. “He’s with Gojyo now, and he wouldn’t wanna touch a snarky, snobbish creepoid like you anyway!”

That sensation of dead silence filled the room again, and from the sudden expression of malicious delight that spread across Nii’s face, Goku got the feeling he had done something very, very wrong.

“He’s moved on, has he?” Nii chuckled into a cupped hand, then eased back from the table. “I suppose we’ll see. If I’m really so unwelcome, then I won’t stay.”

“I’ll see you out,” Koumyou whispered, and he chased Nii as he sauntered back into the night-black shop. Sanzo exhaled a huge breath he’d been holding all at once, and shook his head.

“I need a cigarette.”

“Outside,” Toudai muttered. “If I can’t smoke anymore, you can’t smoke around me, but good God, do I wish I still could.”

Sanzo promptly got up and brushed past Goku without sparing him a glance, dodging out the back door and digging into his pants pocket. Goku reached for him as the door shut, and Toudai released a sigh that settled like dust across an emptied home and sank into his seat.

“Go talk to him.” Toudai put his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his palm, but motioned to Goku from his lap. Goku shook his head.

“I feel like I really messed that one up.” He fidgeted just to watch his fingertips and avoid Toudai’s lead-heavy stare. “I… I guess I should ask… but I shouldn’t.”

“I adopted him.” Toudai glanced down to the floor. “I was a minor celebrity, of sorts, opening my home to an 'unadoptable’ teenager could be passed off as an act of charity. We adopted Ken'yuu when he was fourteen, and Koumyou adopted Kouryuu as a baby two years later. We raised them together, outwardly merely roommates, but our adopted sons were brothers. Their relationship went sour as Kouryuu got older, and when we realized the effect Ken'yuu was having on him, amongst–” Toudai wrinkled his nose– “Other things, we’ve had to cut him off.” Toudai groaned, and now he was the one who looked especially old. “I admit I’ve rather given up on him. Koumyou, bless him, still sees the good in him.”

“He… had an effect on him?” Goku glanced back to the door again. Toudai sucked his lower lip in, then crossed his arms.

“Kouryuu wasn’t always this… he wasn’t always as solitary as he is now. Somewhere in his teen years, he started insisting he didn’t want to be called by his name because he was sick of the sound of it.” Toudai sniffed derisively, then drummed his fingers on the table a few times. “Worse, every time he became… interested in anyone, Ken'yuu would swoop in and charm them away from him before he got the chance.”

That sealed it. “I’ll go talk to him. Thanks, Mr. Toudai.” Goku pivoted and pushed his way out the back door.

The backyard was a neat little herb garden, kept in manicured rows, and Goku smelled basil first. He smelled cigarette smoke second. Sanzo was at the very back of the yard, propped against a little wooden shed by the fence. His face was dimly illuminated by the cigarette in his lips, catching every shadow long in the hollows under his eyes and his high cheekbones, and he looked as grim as if someone had just told him of a death in the family. Goku walked down the rows towards him, barely even noticing that he was fidgeting again. Sanzo didn’t look at him, pretending to be fascinated by the cherry on his smoke. Goku waited, and put his hands tight on his hips. Sanzo finally dropped the spent butt into the dirt and crossed his arms. “You shouldn’t have been here for that.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Goku turned on his heel and rested his shoulder blades on the wall next to Sanzo. “But I was. You couldn’t help it. It happened, it’s over now, and you and me are here now.”

“Yeah,” Sanzo muttered, and fished out another cigarette. “And you had no idea what went down between… You weren’t around then. It’s none of your business.”

“I’m bettin’ it wasn’t good.” Goku couldn’t help but watch Sanzo’s lips play around the cigarette, but swallowed his fascination and forced himself to stare at the ground and look contrite. “And I shouldn’t'a blurted out that Hakkai has a new boyfriend to his slimejob ex.”

Sanzo scoffed quietly. “Slimejob, huh.”

“Mhm.”

“You said creepoid, earlier.” Goku snuck a glance up at Sanzo, and saw that he was smirking now. “Your choice of descriptive language is… apt. Not sure I’ve ever heard anyone describe Nii so accurately.” Sanzo dropped his cigarette and unfolded one arm to lay it around Goku’s shoulder. “You didn’t mean any harm. And he probably already knew Hakkai had someone new. He might be stalking him. I don’t think Hakkai knows yet.”

“Oh, jeez. I had no idea.” Goku cringed. “I won’t tell Hakkai, unless you want me to.”

“If Nii makes a move, he’ll know. Hakkai’s sharper than he looks.” Sanzo exhaled one last cloud of smoke, then turned Goku to face him. “Don’t think about him. I don’t.”

Goku looked up into Sanzo’s face, into the dark pits of his eyes, and shook his head. “You’re lying. He hurt you too, huh?” Sanzo didn’t answer, instead sealing his lips into a thin line that most wouldn’t dare cross. Goku, however, rested his palms on Sanzo’s forearms. “I’m not gonna ask. You’ll tell me if you wanna. But your Dad said he bullied ya and stole your boyfriends. I just wanted to let you know he’s not gonna steal me.” He slipped his hands up to Sanzo’s shoulders, then around his neck. “S'like Gojyo says. I’m a monkeywrench. I ain’t much for words or thinking big thoughts, but I get stuff done, I’m solid like steel, and I stick to stuff like the magnet on the wall. And right now, I’m a little stuck on you.”

Sanzo let Goku hang there, impassive for a moment, before letting his expression slip into a smirk. “So, you’re a magnetic monkeywrench.” He let his arms raise to embrace Goku around the small of his back. “You’re lucky. I usually don’t give tools the time of day.”

“Yeah, but you like me too much. I can tell.” Goku chuckled into Sanzo’s neck. “I got you eating out of the palm of my hand.”

Sanzo, too, laughed, and pressed his forehead against Goku’s. “Is that what you think? Eat this.”

Goku felt him bow his head, and tilted his chin up to meet him as Sanzo pressed a kiss to his lips. It was quick, and Goku could feel his arms tighten around his waist and the tension and anxiety in Sanzo’s jaw, masking a subtle fear that Goku might slip out of his grip at any second. When Sanzo backed off to breathe, their noses still touching, Goku shook his head again. “See, that’s just it. I like you, Sanzo. That guy’s not even cute. You’re funny. I think it’s funny how grouchy you are, and I think it’s cool that you’re so serious and tough but you got this sneaky sense of humor. I wanna get to know you better, so I can understand why you’re like that and like that stuff even more. I hope that’s okay with you, 'cause you, creepy glasses guy, even a brick wall couldn’t keep me back.”

“And what,” Sanzo muttered, as he shifted his arm up Goku’s back and pulled their mouths a little closer, “makes you think I’m going to let you close in the first place?”

“He says, as he leans in to kiss the monkeywrench again.” Goku lunged up and pecked Sanzo across the lips, eliciting a little grunt of surprise. “Pretty sure it’s already too late. You can stop pretending you don’t like me. Maybe even make an effort to show me you do. 'Cause, I’m not sure your Dads like me enough to invite me over again.”

“Are you kidding? Koumyou was wagging his tail at the door waiting for you. He’s probably watching us now.”

“Yeah, well, even so. I dunno if it’s a good time to ask, but why didn’t you call me?”

Sanzo scoffed, put rested his chin on Goku’s shoulder. It took him a moment to muster up the will to answer: “I didn’t want to take the chance you’d say no.”

“Oh.” Goku shrugged. “Guess I get that. Well, I promise I’ll only say no if I have a really good reason, okay? Like homework, or the flu.”

Sanzo sagged against him, his back sliding down the wall. “That’s… reasonable.” He slipped one hand up into Goku’s hair, then carded his fingers through it. “You really are that simple, aren’t you?”

“Yup.” Goku smiled to himself, because he knew Sanzo couldn’t see it, only hear how content he was to be where he was. Sanzo pushed Goku’s hair from his face and tilted his head back, kissing him a little deeper, more intensely, and slipping his tongue between Goku’s parted lips to brush the roof of his mouth. Goku tasted his cigarette first - not altogether unpleasant, but intensely bitter - then the puckering sour-and-sweet of lemon and lavender that still clung to his tongue. Goku had no idea how long they spent trading kisses, tasting one another, only that he only really stopped when he ran out of breath and Sanzo was still pecking at his lower lip as he withdrew, reluctant to stop.

“We,” Sanzo murmured against Goku’s teeth, “should do this at your place next time.”

Goku laughed and took a step back, finally breaking his hold on Sanzo. “Just tell me when you’re not busy. I’ll make time for you.”

Koumyou was waiting in the kitchen for Sanzo and Goku, sitting on the counter and pretending unconvincingly that he hadn’t been watching them through the window. “I was just headed home, Mr. Sanzo. I have to work tomorrow.”

“Koumyou’s fine; there are far too many men who would answer to Sanzo in this house.” Koumyou alighted to the ground and dusted his trousers off, still smiling cordially. “Thank you for coming. It was a delight to have two fine young men at our table tonight.”

Sanzo and Koumyou escorted Goku to the door, and Koumyou shook Goku’s hand with his final farewell, then turned around. “I’m not watching, boys.”

Sanzo rolled his eyes, but kissed Goku on the cheek. “Thanks.” Goku kissed him in return, quickly, chastely, but thinking about his tongue the whole time.

“I had fun! Thanks for having me over! I’ll see ya!” Goku forced himself to turn and bolted down the road towards the bus stop. He couldn’t stop, because he was sure if he lingered a moment longer, he’d do something really stupid like kiss Sanzo again and if he did that, he would never be able to leave.

Koumyou, for his part, sighed contently as Goku rushed off, and glanced back to Sanzo. “I’m so glad the evening turned out well. Perhaps we should–”

“I get it.” Sanzo was already turning his back and moving towards the stairs. “I’ll give him a chance. It can’t go worse than any other … whatever I’ve had.”

Koumyou frowned, but murmured, “Things can’t stay like they are forever.” Sanzo stopped on the step he stood on. “Kouryuu, you know Toudai and I won’t be with you forever. We will run out of things to sell, this shop will close. We may need to sell our home and move somewhere more affordable when that day comes. Someday, and sooner than either of us would like to admit, the medicine will cease to help Toudai, and even my lifeline ends.” Koumyou approached, but stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “You must change as the times do. Flow with the stream, of course, but Kouryuu, I’m very worried that you’ll be lonely and listless when I’m gone. I am not saying marry this boy because you’ve met someone who is called to your heart, only give this relationship a chance to call you. Don’t just let it pass you by. One who merely sits in the stream is a rock, and a life like that isn’t a life at all.” He sighed, but put his hands on his hips. “You’ve kept things simple until now. I’d like if you could, you know, live a little.”

“Live a little.” Sanzo repeated the words with obvious derision. “I’ll live how I want. If I want to talk to someone new, so be it, but don’t give me shit if it falls through.” He tromped up the rest of the stairs, already digging for his earphones.

Sanzo preferred things quiet. He would never deny that. However, part of him knew the evening would have been worse if Goku, so bright, so loud, hadn’t come and blasted back the darkness. Perhaps it was worth taking the chance.


	11. Thinking of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gojyo has Hakkai on the brain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and chapter 12 were part of an experiment in contrast. Similar themes, and the same scene written from two points of view. Enjoy!

**11: Thinking of You**

It wasn’t much of a hobby, but Gojyo liked to keep in shape when he had time. Walking from his apartment to the shop and back every day was fine, but on his days off, he liked a little more.

He woke up early – too used to getting up early every other day of the week, he supposed. He worked out with his hand weights for a while, pumping the tricep and bicep, did push-ups on each hand with the other arm across his back, a long set of crunches, then he took a long jog through the neighborhood. When summer faded, though, the mornings were darker every week, and he started to push his start time later and later, until there was at least a little daylight. Exercising, working up a sweat, was calming for him, especially after being sick for three solid days.

He needed to get the energy out. He had barely been well enough to text Hakkai more than, “Under the weather, sorry I haven’t come by,” or, "miss you," so the morning jog was just what he needed to get his blood pumping again. The fall air was crisp and refreshing, and it felt damn good to be back on his feet.

Plus, he’d seen the way Hakkai looked at him. His body was a temple, and he got the feeling Hakkai worshiped it, if only a little. He had to keep it looking as Godly as possible. (There was also the slight concern that he’d been eating more pastries lately and while he’d never had a problem eating what he wanted and still looking good the next day, he didn’t want to chance losing his six-pack to croissants.) Feeling his heart pounding and his leg muscles aching told him he was doing right by him and by himself. Hakkai already made his heart pound for lots of other reasons, anyway. Mostly because…

“ _I might really fall in love with you if you continue to be this wonderful.“_

He’d heard Hakkai repeating those words in his memory only a couple billion times since Hakkai had said them. He kept thinking back to it, wondering if Hakkai really meant it. His heart skipped like it was running over the rumble strip whenever he thought of Hakkai actually saying the words to him, lucid and sober. He’d been stuck on it for three days, and he felt only the tiniest bit pathetic for it. The rest of him was just as tickled pink as if he’d dived into a vat of cherry soda.

It was probably because he was so lost in thought that he almost missed someone calling his name from just off of the sidewalk. “… Gojyo!” He jumped and looked around, and saw a familiar woman with her long, dark hair bound in a braid past her waist waving from next to a sidewalk sale table in front of a consignment shop. She giggled when his focus snapped to her. “I thought it was you! Goodness, wearing shorts in this chill?”

“I was just on a jog around the neighborhood, didn’t want to get my regular clothes all sweaty.” Gojyo mopped his brow and strolled over to her, opening his arms. “How ya doin’, sis?”

“Oh, just fine!” She gave him a quick hug, then shook her hands off. “Oh, you are sweaty!”

“Tol'ja.” Gojyo chuckled and brushed his hands off on the back of his tee. “So, Yaone, how’s Jien been?”

“Just fine.” Yaone giggled, but turned her attention back to the knick-knacks on the table. Gojyo glanced over it – old books, unique glass salt-and-pepper shaker sets, a few funky vases – but watched Yaone’s face as she masked a little disapproval. “We, er, haven’t heard from you in a while.”

“Eh. You know. Me and him. Like water and oil.”

“Separated.” Yaone crossed her arms. “I do worry. You two are the only family each other has.”

“Yeah, well.” Gojyo huffed through his nostrils, lips sealed tight. “Uh, how’s the boss-slash-other-husband?”

“He’s been fine!” Yaone shook her head, though she still smiled through. “How’s business been?”

“Crazy busy, actually. I’ve been getting some referrals from happy customers.” His mind drifted back to Hakkai, and a stupid smile chased its way onto his face. “It’s good.”

“I only hope you’re not too busy.” Yaone’s smile wobbled, betraying her nerves. “I wouldn’t want you to get overwhelmed, all by your lonesome.”

Gojyo had to bite his lip. “I’m fine. Got my apprentice, and all, and if business stays as good, I’ll be hiring on a new mechanic. So.” He clapped his hands together. “Last we spoke, you and my brother were talking about kids?”

“Oh, yes!” Yaone stifled an eager giggle. “Well, only talking, of course, no hard plans, but even Kougaiji is getting excited! We’re just trying to decide who should be the father of the first one, and honestly, I think even if we only decide to have one, it’ll be wonderful…” He let her prattle and feigned mild interest as he browsed the table. As much as he liked his sister-in-law (and even tolerated his unofficial brother-in-law, because if his brother was happier in a triad than a couple, then that was just fine with him), she babbled a lot. Of course, that was just how happy Yaone was when she was talking about the men she loved. She giggled, she blushed, she scrunched her face up and played with her hair. He wondered if he looked quite that goofy when he thought about Hakkai. He knew how Hakkai acted talking to him. He laughed, he shook his head, he smiled so sweetly and innocently, Gojyo was sure he could do no wrong.

”– Oh, Gojyo, you’re all pink.“ Yaone giggled, and Gojyo snapped back and realized his face was hot. "Did you need some water?”

“Nah, I’m fine. Just, seeing you talk about my brother reminds me of someone.”

Yaone gasped, hands clapped over her mouth. “Have you met someone special?”

Gojyo grinned and hunched his shoulders as his ears burned hot. “Yeah. Someone really special. Uh, I kinda got a boyfriend.”

Yaone grabbed his hands, beaming with delight. “Oh, that’s wonderful! What’s he like?”

“Oh, man. He’s just…” Gojyo pulled his hands from hers and rubbed the back of his head, raising his eyes as he thought. “He’s, uh, about as tall as me, but a lot more skinny, short brown hair – got these eyes that are greener than green, and his smile, shit, I can’t even think. And he’s crazy smart, and polite, and he talks pretty, and –”

He realized he was going off just like Yaone did when she was gushing about her partners, and his cheeks turned pink. Yaone squealed. “Oh, you must really like him!”

Gojyo shook his head and pushed his hair back from his face. “I really do. Some days, he’s all I can think about.” He grinned to himself, until he heard his phone chime and jumped to grab it out of his back pocket. Yaone leaned in.

“Oh, is that him now?”

Hakkai’s name lit up his screen, and Gojyo scrolled it up. “Yeah.” His heart battered his collarbone, jumping eagerly, as he opened the phone and read the message:

“ _I wish I were inviting you to meet me for lunch, but I have been asked to come in to the bakery to handle some business. I would dearly like to see you today. Please drop by if you can.”_

“Aw, he got called in to work on his day off?” Gojyo scoffed and put his phone back in his pocket. “Damn shame. I’ll just have to go to the bakery to see him.” He sighed, reality settling back in a little as Yaone pouted. He remembered who he was talking to and felt himself cool a little more. “Hey, do me a favor and don’t tell my brother yet. I don’t think I’m ready to introduce the two of them yet, and I get the feeling Jien would kind of insist.”

Yaone raised her eyebrows. “Gojyo–”

“C'mon.” He crossed his arms. “I’m trusting ya here. I ain’t had a solid boyfriend, as in just-seeing-one-person boyfriend or girlfriend, since I was a dumb ass brat in high school. I don’t want _him_ spooking the guy.”

Yaone pursed her lips and set her hands on her hips. “I don’t like lying to him. But you have to promise to tell him. He’ll be so happy to hear, you know?” Gojyo sucked in air and refocused on the table, tapping his foot on the concrete, feeling his brow knit and ache. Yaone touched his arm. “So, he works in a bakery?”

“The best bakery.” Gojyo smirked a little, but continued to pretend the junk table was fascinating.

“And do you have a picture of this amazing, intelligent, handsome baker?”

“Well, sure, I–” Gojyo opened his phone again, only to realize that no, he didn’t. “Well, shit. Gonna have to fix that.” He stuffed his phone back away, then faced Yaone. “I’ll text it to you.”

“I’d like that.” She giggled. “And perhaps you could bring me some of his pastries next time?”

“Eh, who knows when I’ll see you, right?” He averted his gaze again, but this time, his glance caught on the cover of one of the books.

An old photograph of a pie in a glass dish, with a crust that looked like maple-leaf-shaped cookies, illustrated a tome labelled “Modern Euro Pastry.” Gojyo grabbed it and looked at the summary: the book promised to detail all sorts of surprising new pastry-making techniques… circa 40 years ago.

Hakkai jumped into his mind again, and suddenly, he was smiling, and nearly forgot Yaone had even been there. “I’ll have that picture for you sooner than you think. I think I’ll go make him smile for the camera.” With that, he bolted past her for the store, book in hand.

* * *

Gojyo could see Sanzo and Hakkai behind the counter of the bakery, talking, when he walked in with the book hidden in one hand behind his back. Hakkai’s expression had been firm and sour, but when the bell chimed and Gojyo passed under it, he visibly softened and brightened, though his sweet smile still had a shade of gray in it even as Gojyo bypassed the bread baskets and other customers to make a beeline for him. Sanzo scoffed and stepped back, crossing his arms and propping himself against the kitchen door, and Hakkai stepped to the counter to meet Gojyo. “I’m surprised to see you this soon, though not unhappily so. Did you leave your gym for me?”

Gojyo remembered he was still in his workout clothes, still sweaty from jogging the mile from the neighborhood near his apartment to the market street where his garage and the bakery both sat, and he could feel every woman in the room giving him the once-over. He huffed out a nervous laugh, swaying a step back from the counter, and shook his hair off. “Nah, I was just out for a run. And, uh, I saw this.” He held the book out, taking another step back as he did, and Hakkai cautiously accepted it. “It made me think of you.” Hakkai scanned the cover, then the back, and Sanzo tilted his shoulders forward, an eyebrow quirked but his motion subtle, as if he didn’t want to be caught looking. He couldn’t tell what Hakkai was thinking, and the room felt weirdly loud, as if every whisper buzzed in his ear, and every wayward giggle was aimed at him. Worse, he felt something bearing down on him, and forced a laugh to break the tension. “That’s all. I’m sorry for interrupting ya at work–”

“This is very kind of you.” Hakkai was hugging the book, and there was a hint of pink in his cheeks. “You were just thinking of me, were you?”

“Well, yeah.” Gojyo crossed his arms, grinning through his nerves. “You said you like to read, and you like cookbooks, and it’s way retro, and everything that’s old sorta comes back after a while, right? So, it made me think of you, and nothing makes me happier than that, y'know?”

The women who were watching them tittered or cooed, Sanzo actually muffled a groan and rolled his eyes, but Hakkai folded his arms around the book, hugging it to his chest. “You’re far too kind. I’ll enjoy this, and I’ll think about you every time I open it.”

Gojyo’s chest throbbed, and he could tell he was smiling stupidly. He was at least reassured that the people watching them saw nothing other than a cute couple, and that Hakkai’s pleasure was genuine. Every time Hakkai smiled, it got harder and harder to play it cool. “It’s nothing, just, I thought it’d make you smile. Good thing it did, right?” He grinned with all of his teeth, then remembered. “Oh, yeah, while I’m here, I need a quick favor.”

Hakkai set the book down and laced his fingers on the counter, subtly stepping aside so Sanzo could ring someone up and prepare them a drink. “Anything.”

Gojyo took his phone from his back pocket. “I don’t have a picture of you yet. Think you could, uh–”

“Oh, certainly!” Hakkai dusted his collar and apron, and smiled as pleasantly as he could when Gojyo held the phone towards him and took the shot. Hakkai glowed in the picture, as sure as if he’d put a sparkle filter on it, but when he looked up to show Hakkai, he saw that Hakkai had his camera out. “Quid pro quo, if you don’t mind.”

“Quid pro – oh, you want a picture, too?” Gojyo found his fingers already swiping through his hair, and he tried to mop his brow. “I’m kind of a mess.”

“You’re always at least a little bit of a mess. I think messy suits you.” Hakkai waited, his finger on the trigger, and Gojyo chuckled and stopped trying to fix his hair. Instead, he gave it one good toss and set his hands on his hips.

“Shoot away, babe.”

Hakkai took the picture, then turned his phone around for Gojyo to see. "At least my hair looks okay.” His face in the photo was a little flushed, a few strands of hair just out of place to make it appear purposefully disheveled, but there was no hiding his bright red jogging shorts. “Well, it’s me.” He noticed how close Hakkai’s face is, just as Hakkai lifted his chin and put the two of them nose to nose. All the tension had wicked from Hakkai’s features, his happiness made only more apparent when he granted Gojyo a butterfly-light peck on the nose.

“It is you, and I think I rather like that.”

“Hakkai,” Sanzo interjected from the register. “We weren’t finished.”

“Oh.” Hakkai knit his eyebrows up, his gaze dropping, before lifting his face to look into Gojyo’s. “I should get back to attending to business. Would you care for a coffee before you go? The Gojyo special?”

“Gojyo special?” Gojyo stuffed his hands in his pockets as Hakkai backed away from the counter, and quirked an eyebrow. “I got my own special?”

“Your favorite. Coffee and espresso with chocolate, no milk, no sugar.” Hakkai took a cup and marked it with a smiley-face, but Gojyo chuckled and shook his head.

“You really got my number, babe. Still, I just had a workout, I oughta keep it light. Can I have an iced coffee with nonfat milk?”

“Anything you’d like.” Hakkai presented him with the coffee in what seemed like an instant, and when Gojyo took it from his hand, Hakkai brushed his fingers over Gojyo’s. “If you’d like dinner with me later, I can offer that, as well.”

“Dinner sounds awesome.” Gojyo’s heart was back in his chest and swelling up as if it could burst out. “Text me when you want me, alright?”

As he pushed the door to leave, Gojyo faintly heard Hakkai telling Sanzo, “I’m afraid his phone would never stop ringing if I did that,” and smirked to himself. He took his phone out and took in the image of Hakkai again, affirmed to himself that the genuine article was better than a picture, then sent it to Yaone with a message: _“This is the guy.”_

Damn, he was hooked good. He didn’t even care if she broke her word about not telling his brother. If she just had to show her husbands, so what? What could Jien possibly do to mess with this? When he had Hakkai on the brain, nothing could go wrong.


	12. Considerations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hakkai’s Sunday takes a strange turn with an unexpected phone call and an even more unexpected meeting.

**12: Considerations**

Sunday mornings were for coffee with milk, for steel-cut oats left in his slow-cooker overnight dressed with dried cranberries and slivered, blanched almonds, and for resting. Hakkai liked to sleep a little late – six a.m., if he didn’t wake up naturally before that – and read a novel on his porch until his coffee carafe went empty. That had been his routine since he’d gotten his bakery open, and it had only changed a little since a certain man had popped into his life by chance.

He’d gotten over his fever and returned to work on Saturday, but when he’d gone back to work, hoping Gojyo would peek in to check on him, Goku was the one who showed up. He had asked for his usual overly sweet and creamy cappuccino and a plain black coffee for Gojyo. While he waited for Sanzo to make the drinks, he whispered to Hakkai that Gojyo had been working through a cold, but that Gojyo hadn’t wanted to worry him and he was mostly feeling better now but still wanted to keep away from Hakkai until he was at one-hundred percent. Hakkai would have taken some soup (good soup, to be precise, made by his hand and recipe) to the poor man, but Goku didn’t know and couldn’t say where Gojyo lived.

“We hang out after work sometimes, go for burgers and shakes or whatever, but he’s never invited me over. He says it’s kind of a sty, anyway, and not set up for company.” Goku had shrugged, and Hakkai had stifled his disappointment as best as he could.

Hopefully, he’d get to see Gojyo today. He checked the time as he finished his first novel of the morning, and wondered if it was a reasonable time to try to contact him now. Gojyo had done his best to be so kind and considerate of him, he dearly wanted to return the favor. Imagine, someone going out of their way to take care of him! Usually he was the one to take care of others, when he had friends he cared enough about to do so. Gojyo’s methods were unorthodox, certainly, but after a day under his care, he felt better than if a miracle worker had worked his magic. He wanted to show his gratitude somehow, and certainly in some other way than making sure none of Gojyo’s (dreadful) soup went to waste.

(Even if it was inedible when his taste buds started working again, it was excellent fertilizer for his petunias.)

As if to answer his thoughts, Hakkai’s phone rang. Surely it was a sane time now – but it wasn’t yet fully light, and the number on the screen wasn’t Gojyo’s, nor one he recognized. He answered it with a hesitant: “Good morning, can I help you?”

“Oh, Hakkai, dear, has it been that long since we spoke?”

“Koumyou!” Despite the forced cheer in his voice, Hakkai’s heart sank. He’d deleted Koumyou’s phone number from his contacts in a fit of spite three years ago, and he’d never expected to speak to him again. It had been a shame to cut off communication, because he sometimes liked Koumyou better than the reason they’d met and spoke as often as they had in the first place. That held true even today. “Goodness, it has been some time, hasn’t it? Kouryuu tells me you’re well.”

Koumyou giggled on the other end of the line. “It’s true, fit as a fiddle. And you? Kouryuu has said that business has been good.”

“It has, yes, surprisingly so.” Hakkai reclined back in his chair. “The first year is the hardest, so they say, but somehow or other, we’ve become very popular very quickly.”

“Oh, I can hazard a guess as to your popularity. Your sweets are better than any others in the city, your breads are beautiful, and frankly, I hear the women who pass through gossiping about the handsome baker on Main Street, and how very handsome he is.”

Hakkai suppressed a chortle. “Ah, do I have competition?”

“Gracious, no! Though I imagine there are at least a few eyes on Kouryuu.” Koumyou heaved a sigh that dissolved into a little laugh. “That reminds me. Have you met Goku? He’s a pleasant boy who’s been speaking to Kouryuu, we just had him over for dinner yesterday evening.”

“You invited him? Not Kouryuu?” Hakkai gripped the phone tighter. He couldn’t have imagined that went over well.

“Oh, yes, and we all had a delightful time. You know how Kouryuu is, he’s so awfully shy.”

“He is. Fortunately, Goku’s the precise opposite. I’ve met him a few times, he’s a delight.” Hakkai relaxed his shoulders when he realized how tense they’d gotten.

“He certainly is.” Kouryuu paused, but Hakkai could sense that he was biting his tongue. “He mentioned you were seeing someone new.”

Hakkai sat forward, resting his elbow on his knee and focusing on the dew gathered on his shrubbery. “Ah… so I am. For several weeks, actually.”

“That’s fantastic!” Koumyou sounded genuinely excited, and Hakkai exhaled. It was uncanny, having to tell his ex-lover’s father that he was moving on, and Hakkai only recognized the jitters in his gut now that they were dissolving. “I’m actually quite happy to hear it. Really, truly. Toudai, too. You’re young, you deserve to be happy with whosoever you choose.”

“Of course,” Hakkai demurred, and shifted the phone to his other ear. “Er…” The question burned on the tip of his tongue, but he had been trying to cut the name in his mind off like a gangrenous limb, and even acknowledging that _he_ was on his mind would open a whole host of scabbed wounds. “You… it’s not upsetting you, is it?”

“Like I said, not at all. Really, it’s as if you forget that we were connected through Kouryuu first. I care for my son’s friends as I do my son. In fact, I would love to meet the gentleman – or woman, or person of any shade, of course.”

“It’s a man.” Hakkai’s chest squeezed when he thought of him. “His name is Gojyo.”

“Gojyo.” There was something curious in Kouryuu’s tone, and Hakkai sensed a tension he couldn’t place when he repeated the name. “Yes, I believe Goku mentioned it was his employer.”

“He owns a small garage. He’s quick-witted, despite his languid, easygoing mannerisms, and very smart when he’s not playing himself off as a rake.” Hakkai found himself smiling. “He’s incredibly charming. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite like him before.”

“That’s wonderful to hear, dear boy.” Koumyou sighed again. “I’ll let you enjoy your day off. Take good care of the new fellow, and please don’t lose my number. As I said, I’d love to meet him.”

“We shall see, of course, when our schedules align.”

He and Koumyou traded fond farewells, but the moment he hung up, Hakkai noticed an unread text message on his phone:

“ _Whatever plans you have with that punk, cancel them. We need to talk. Come to the bakery.”_

Hakkai furrowed his brow. “Really, Sanzo.” He would have chided him, but it wouldn’t be worth the snippy passive-aggression he’d get in return. He typed a message in return. _“I’ll dress and be there shortly.”_

It wasn’t yet eight, so likely Gojyo was sleeping off the last of his cold. Hakkai didn’t want to disturb him yet. How he’d hate to disappoint him. Still, he typed up a quick text informing him of the bad news and rose to force himself to get ready.

He should have been trying to remember if he had a clean work apron or if he should have packed a lunch, but he found himself still caught on Gojyo’s disappointment. How he’d hate a crestfallen expression on that proud face, how he’d much rather see him smiling. How much he would give to see that crooked, roguish smile today, more than a thousand trays of perfect muffins and an acre of satisfied customers.

Koumyou had said he deserved to be happy. It should have made him nervous how happy he was to merely think of Gojyo; he should have been more wary of it. Instead, he wanted to embrace it.

* * *

Hakkai entered through the back of the shop with his apron tied in a neat little bundle, but threw it on over his tee and tied it before stepping into the workspace. The Sunday crew was busily cleaning up after the morning bake and scaling for the afternoon dough mixing, but one by one, they greeted him. He peered over their shoulders at the muffins still being iced and packed, at the bowls of flour and rye on the scales, at the bench. Pippi, in particular, stepped back as he examined the puff pastry on her block and ran his finger on the table under it.

“Much less flour than before.” He displayed his finger, with only a little flour dust on the pad, and granted her a smile. “I appreciate that you’ve accepted my minimalist advice with regard to drying out our pastry. Thank you.”

Pippi raised an eyebrow. “You sound like you doubted me.”

“I didn’t, no. Trust, but verify, yes?” He patted her shoulder and moved on, because the dough was getting warm while they chatted and Sanzo was peering in the window and looking unmistakably impatient. “Go ahead and get the pastry cool, it looks lovely and I’d hate to be the cause of tarnishing it.”

Sanzo was manning the counter with Houmei, the junior-most apprentice baker. Sanzo liked to observe the customers, to listen to what was said, their comments, their criticisms, and he would usually feed it all back to Hakkai, albeit usually in sharper tones than he would ever hear directly. Today, the moment Hakkai got into his earshot, he pointed at the bread racks.

“The naan Sharak and her team produced last night was obliterated within two hours. They didn’t make a lot, but the people who knew what it was were rabid for it.” He sniffed, but didn’t turn to face . “But more than a few had no idea what it was and were wondering why we were selling fat tortillas.”

Hakkai laughed over his bemusement. “I’m glad her experiment went well. Perhaps it can be a special, since it’s not a common product. I’ll consult with her next our paths cross, and we’ll go from there.” He finished with a sigh, then leaned forward to catch Sanzo’s eye. “But that could have waited until Monday. What’s going on?”

Sanzo grunted, and finally gave Hakkai the grace of eye contact. “We need to talk Christmas. Because you’ve been sick, we’ve gotten behind on planning. It’s going to be insane from the end of November through the end of the year, and all we’ve done so far is start planning a tentative list of holiday items and a schedule of weekly specials. I was running the numbers and doing some comparisons on the numbers for similar businesses in my magazines.”

“Ah.” Somehow, Hakkai had read the tone of Sanzo’s text differently. “I admit, I’ve been a bit lax in my preparations.”

Sanzo sneered, then sighed and uncrossed his knees, then grabbed their order book off the counter. “No better time to start than the present. I know we’re going to need pies, and cakes. What flavors of pie?”

Hakkai crossed his arms as his mind shifted gears into business mode. “Apple and pumpkin, obviously; popular harvest flavors. Pecan is popular as well, but it can be hit or miss and I haven’t felt out the area well enough to know for certain. I could ask someone who knows the area.” A smile escaped to his face as he thought of a certain someone he’d ask, but he shook it off and refocused. “Do you think customer polling…”

He and Sanzo talked for an hour, plotting the escalation, possible schedule shifts, additional ordering, and how to best determine what they would need. “The American half of town will go wild for pies at the end of November, like we’d determined, but I’m not certain if the Japanese side of town will follow suit.” Hakkai tapped his pen on his lip and reviewed the sheets he’d torn off of the order ledger. Orders and customers had steadily flowed in and out as they’d talked, but Hakkai had noticed Sanzo’s gaze flick away from him and across the shop floor more than a few times. His arms remained tightly crossed over his chest, but Hakkai pretended he wasn’t scouring Sanzo’s body language for clues as to what was going on in his mind. "As for recipes, I’ll begin research tonight, after I go to the grocery store, and set a night aside in the next two weeks for taste-testing.“

"All hands on deck?”

“I’d rather make it voluntary, but I’d like to encourage as many of our assistants and apprentices to show up as possible.” He tucked the pages away. “The bread team will be there, of course, but Sharak’s main contribution is usually, ‘This is too sweet.’” He considered Sanzo’s expression a moment longer. “You may invite your parents, of course.”

Sanzo scoffed, his hands tightening around his lower arms. “They won’t come. Not that they don’t like your stuff, but if Toudai has more than a little, Koumyou pecks at him, and Koumyou won’t eat so Toudai doesn’t get jealous.” Hakkai noticed Sanzo’s knuckles go white. “He’s so cautious, it’s annoying. His diabetes hasn’t worsened. It’s everything else that’s the problem.”

“Ah.” Hakkai bit his lip for a moment. He knew that Toudai’s health was a sensitive topic, and one Sanzo was loathe to speak of. Not even in private, so certainly not here. He made a mental note to call Koumyou again and inquire, but went on, “You should invite Goku.”

“He has the palate of a monkey. He’ll think anything is good.”

Hakkai laughed aloud, until he remembered they were still in the shop and muted himself to a conversational chuckle. “Certainly he’ll have things he prefers.” He paused, and studied Sanzo’s expression. “I’m inviting Gojyo.”

Sanzo’s face wrinkled as if someone had thrust a lemon under his nose at that exact second, and Hakkai began to get a much clearer picture of what was Sanzo was really thinking. “I get the distinct feeling you dislike him.”

“He’s a moron.” Sanzo groped at his vest pocket, but Hakkai pushed his hand away from his cigarette box and continued to wait, unblinking, for further explanation. “My opinion of him isn’t the one that matters, but you’re rushing whatever you’re trying to accomplish with him.”

“I disagree.” Hakkai turned on his heel to face Sanzo directly. “I did not set out to accomplish anything with him, as you put it. We met, we happened to have chemistry, and I intend to see how long the reaction lasts.”

“The reaction, as you put it, is practically incendiary. You know he could be throwing up a smokescreen. You’ll get burned if you’re not careful.”

“Ahaha. Imagine, you concerned that I’ll get hurt in a relationship.”

Sanzo put his foot down and straightened his back. “If you get wrecked again, then you’ll be useless to the business, and that’s not good for the bottom line.”

“What is the bottom line, Sanzo? Money? Success? Fame and fortune?” Sanzo scoffed and rolled his eyes, as Hakkai calmly stood his ground. “No, you’ve never cared about any of those things. Life is for living, is it not? And many will say that one who does not love has not lived.” Hakkai pursed his lips, then let his chin drop. “You’re right. I was all but disemboweled in the aftermath of my… relationship with Nii. And it took me time to recover, but I’d like to think I’m stronger for my scar tissue. I would think you would be happy that I found the strength to let myself be picked up by a charming stranger that happened into my sphere and try to move on.”

“'Charming strangers’ are usually just assholes with a good cover.” Sanzo tightened his arms where they were crossed again, his voice a dangerous hush.

“Ah, so I suppose you won’t be inviting Goku after all? He has you fairly charmed, from what I can tell.” Sanzo swore under his breath as Hakkai studied him again. “Your father called me this morning. He told me that Goku had passed on the news that I was seeing someone again, and that he was happy for me. I suppose it was presumptuous of me to think you were at all happy on my behalf.”

Sanzo bit back another blue word, shaking his head. “You hardly know him. I don’t, either. He could be just like that asshole–”

“– We’re in the shop, Sanzo, mind yourself. Do we need to go outside?”

“No. I have nothing more to say than this: Watch yourself. Take a step back and really look at the damned man. And for fuck’s sake, don’t go throwing yourself down another black pit when you know how much that bottom hurts.”

Hakkai was about to reply, when the shop bell chimed, and Gojyo rushed in and Hakkai was struck silent. He was dressed in what appeared to be workout clothes, a tank that was stuck to the skin of his back and doing nothing to disguise the musculature of his abdomen and arms, and red shorts that left little of his thighs to the imagination. He shone with sweat, huffing a little as he caught his breath, and Hakkai looked at him – really looked at him – and his mouth went dry, though his insides were still tense. He managed a wan smile as Gojyo approached him with his usual, easygoing grin and his hands behind his back. Hakkai discreetly tipped his eyes over Gojyo’s short-shorts, then met his gaze with his usual smile.

“I’m surprised to see you this soon, though not unhappily so. Did you leave your gym for me?”

Gojyo laughed sharply and tossed his hair, but Hakkai caught his shoulders stiffen. “Nah, I was just out for a run.” He hesitated, then brought his arms forward. “And, uh, I saw this.” He showed his hands and revealed a decently-sized cookbook – an antique cookbook, one Hakkai knew he’d never seen before. His chest suddenly felt both tight and empty all at once, as Gojyo bashfully lowered his face and managed a churlish grin. “It made me think of you.” Hakkai took the cover in – a beautiful, ornate pie decorated with dough in the shapes of grape vines and leaves, something that would have been unreasonable for the shop but lovely at home – and that tight sensation in his chest turned into an implosion.

Gojyo had listened to him, and did something, unprompted, to meet his desires. He hadn’t asked for it, and yet Gojyo had wanted to please him. This wasn’t just the act of a charmer looking to squirm his way into his pants, he just wanted to make him happy.

All of a sudden, Gojyo was backing away, and he forced a sharp laugh. “That’s all. I’m sorry for interrupting ya at work–” It was then that Hakkai noticed many of the regulars staring, and stifled a titter. Such a proud man, getting self-conscious so easily!

“This is very kind of you.” Hakkai realized he was hugging the book, and squeezed it to his chest as if Gojyo had just laid his soul in his palms. “You were just thinking of me, were you?”

“Well, yeah.” Gojyo stopped trying to escape and grinned with all of his teeth. “You said you like to read, and you like cookbooks, and it’s way retro, and everything that’s old sorta comes back after a while, right? So, it made me think of you, and nothing makes me happier than that, y'know?”

Sanzo groaned behind him, but Hakkai ignored him, silently pleased that he didn’t have to argue another second to prove him wrong. “You’re far too kind. I’ll enjoy this, and I’ll think about you every time I open it.”

Gojyo’s ears turned red, and Hakkai’s pulse fluttered like a hummingbird’s wings. He didn’t care that the entire shop was watching now, he’d throw his arms around Gojyo this very moment were the counter not dividing them. Gojyo, for his part, waved a little. “It’s nothing, just, I thought it’d make you smile. Good thing it did, right?” He startled, and dug into his back pocket. “Oh, yeah, while I’m here, I need a quick favor.”

“Anything.” Hakkai leaned over the counter, and Gojyo held up his cell phone.

“I don’t have a picture of you yet. Think you could, uh–”

“Oh, certainly!” Hakkai was starting to feel a little self-conscious too, and he dusted his collar and apron. Gojyo held his phone up, and Hakkai put every bit of pleasure he felt for Gojyo’s gift into his smile, until he heard him take the picture. Gojyo turned it back to himself and grinned, wearing delight like a string of fairy lights (all lit up, practically glowing), and Hakkai couldn’t help it. Wouldn’t it be nice to show Koumyou the sweet, smiling man who’d captivated him? Wouldn’t it be nice to see his face whenever he wanted? He took his phone out. “Quid pro quo, if you don’t mind.”

Gojyo knit his eyebrows in confusion for a split second. “Quid pro – oh, you want a picture, too?” He quickly tried to groom himself, swiping the loose strands of his hair into a facsimile of his usually-straight part. “I’m kind of a mess.”

“You’re always at least a little bit of a mess.” Gojyo stilled, and Hakkai reinforced his smile. “I think messy suits you.” Gojyo’s cheeks got pink again, and he chortled and tossed his hair over his shoulders, then set his hands on his hips, the very image of a man’s man despite his short shorts.

“Shoot away, babe.”

Hakkai waited just a second to make sure Gojyo wouldn’t blink, knowing he couldn’t capture his natural swagger, his air of debauched charm, or all the flutters of anxiety and warmth that dueled in Hakkai’s chest when he looked at him. He took the picture, capturing Gojyo’s smile, his proud figure, and turned it towards Gojyo so both of them could look. Gojyo guffawed and tossed his hair again. “At least my hair looks okay.” He shrugged. “Well, it’s me.” Hakkai hummed softly in agreement, then turned to find his nose nearly touching Gojyo’s, and a helpless smile overtook him. He kissed Gojyo on the nose.

“It is you, and I think I rather like that.” He liked that very much, everything in that picture, everything standing in front of him, from the kindness in his heart to the way he got embarrassed.

“Hakkai.” Sanzo had busied himself helping Houmei, but paused to tear Hakkai from his reverie. “We weren’t finished.”

“Oh.” Hakkai felt all of his joy curdle at once, but took a breath to sigh it out, and focused on Gojyo so he’d resist the urge to grant Sanzo his falsest smile and his most withering stare. “I should get back to attending to business. Would you care for a coffee before you go? The Gojyo special?”

“Gojyo special?” He sounded amused, if nothing else, and Hakkai felt a little shiver in his throat when he cocked his eyebrow. “I got my own special?”

“Your favorite. Coffee and espresso with chocolate, no milk, no sugar.” Hakkai took a cup and marked it with a smiley-face, but Gojyo chuckled and shook his head.

“You really got my number, babe.” He ran his thumb over his abs. “Still, I just had a workout, I oughta keep it light. Can I have an iced coffee with nonfat milk?”

“Anything you’d like.” As easily said as done, Hakkai poured the coffee from the cold press, added a scoop of ice, and swirled in a little milk, then presented it with a flourish. He touched Gojyo’s fingers as he withdrew his hand, his rough, callused knuckles a welcome little scrape on the pads of his fingers. “If you’d like dinner with me later, I can offer that, as well.”

Gojyo beamed, his fingers tightening around his coffee cup, and Hakkai found the joy rising back through him bit by bit. “Dinner sounds awesome. Text me when you want me, alright?” He threw Hakkai a carefree little wave as he left, and Hakkai stifled a laugh as he turned back to Sanzo.

“I’m afraid his phone would never stop ringing if I did that.”

Sanzo grunted with disgust and hooked Hakkai by his collar. “Come on.” He glanced to Houmei. “Knock if you need help.”  Then, he yanked Hakkai into the kitchen.

Hakkai pulled out of Sanzo’s grip the second they were through the doors. “I’ll thank you not to drag me around like a stubborn dog on a leash. Is something the matter?”

Sanzo sucked in air, then glanced back at the kitchen staff, all of whom had stopped to stare. Then, he released hot air in a rush: “Stop being stupid. I tell you to take it slow with him, and the next second, you’re draping yourself all over him in public.”

“Your discomfort with PDA is not at issue, and really, Sanzo, it’s not as if we were removing clothing or even going anywhere near second base. I believe this is how most people act when they encounter their paramour.”

“Paramour.” Sanzo sneered the word, then put his finger in Hakkai’s face. “Listen. Nii came home last night. He was asking about you. I don’t know how long he’s been in town or how long he’ll stay, but he asked about you.”

Hakkai had been about to scold Sanzo for talking down to him, but that stopped him. He felt the places that Gojyo’s presence made warm freeze over as the words sunk in. “Oh. Oh, is that so?”

“I didn’t want to tell you.” Sanzo patted at his pocket and yanked a cigarette out. “I don’t want you wrapping yourself up with him again. I’d rather him not find an opening to worm his way back into your life. I imagine him seeing you with someone new might give him an 'in.'”

“No, I understand.” Hakkai shook his head. “But what do you want me to do? Stop seeing Gojyo?”

Sanzo mouthed his cigarette, but didn’t light it. After a moment’s consideration, he muttered, “No. He’s an idiot, but he’s been good for you.”

Hakkai sighed and put his forehead in his hand. “Then what is it you want me to do?”

Sanzo considered it for a moment, his focus pinned to the end of his cigarette, but he grunted and shrugged. “Watch your ass and don’t do anything stupid. That’s it. I need to actually smoke this.” With that, he spun on his heel and strode for the back door, already fetching out his lighter as it swung shut behind him. Before Hakkai could recover, the door to the shop swung open and Houmei popped her head in.

“Sorry to interrupt, boss, but I could use a hand!”

Hakkai smoothed his expression over. “We were just finished, no apology is necessary.” He adjusted his apron and stepped out, and Houmei gestured to the man at the counter.

“He asked about a special you’d mentioned, I thought you’d be the right person to ask.”

Hakkai realized he recognized the customer: a younger man, with platinum blond hair slicked back under a black beret, a cordial smile and a drawl. “Gracious, I didn’t realize you’d be fetchin’ the bossman.” He flapped a skinny hand. “Don’t mean to get the young lady in trouble or nothin’! Just a little, teensy question! Is the 'Gojyo Special’ an off-menu item?”

“Gojyo Special?” Hakkai repeated, surprised. “Er, no, that’s… that’s just how my boyfriend, Gojyo, likes his coffee best. Ah, you’re Hazel, aren’t you?”

The young man gasped. “Why, yes I am! Does my reputation precede me?”

“No, I remember you. You were there at the pub when that fight happened, you called the police.”

Hazel looked thrilled. “Why, you remember me! I hadn’t thought you would!” He thrust a hand out. “We exchanged only a few words, sir, but to be formal, the name’s Hazel Grouse. I’m happy to be of service to an out-and-proud couple.”

“Oh, my.” Hakkai cupped his hand over his mouth. “I’m not certain we’re, erm, 'out-and-proud,’ as you’d put it, though neither of us are hiding our preferences nor ashamed of them. But I appreciate the assistance of a Good Samaritan. On that note, whatever you would like today will be on me.”

“Why, thank you!” Hazel beamed, clasping his hands. “Now, I was asking the young lady what the ‘Gojyo Special’ was, and she didn’t know.”

“It’s only something he’s asked for, and something I prepare. Coffee, espresso, and chocolate, no added milk or sugar. It’s a cross between a mocha and a blackeye. Would you like one?”

“Yes, please!” Hazel folded his hands on the counter, beaming. Hakkai turned to make it, but caught other customers joining the line out of the corner of his eye, raising their hands.

“One for me, too!”

“And me! I want a large!”

Houmei’s jaw dropped, her eyes boggled, and Hakkai stood gobsmacked as fifteen other people lined up, chattering about the new drink. He recovered first and tapped her shoulder. “Ring it as a mocha with an added espresso shot.” He put his smile back on for Hazel. “Just a moment. One Gojyo Special, coming right up.”

He delved into the work, Gojyo’s name in his ears and his smile in his head. He could forget the fears that crept around in the corners of his mind like grinning shadow puppets, lost on the thought of Gojyo, sweet and strong, glowing in his view.


	13. A Taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gojyo is invited to sample Hakkai’s new wares, and takes a chance to learn a little more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the breads and pastries you see described in this chapter are real recipes, or based on things I have cooked! If you check my Tumblr, I've posted a recipe for castiello for your enjoyment. This chapter is a little long, so strap in and enjoy!

**13: A Taste**

Gojyo was finding that the promise of a home-cooked meal could convince him to do damn near anything.

Last week, Hakkai had lured him to his little cottage in the clearing with a promise of dinner. Gojyo never said no to food, not when the alternative was going out or microwaving something. However, he arrived to find Hakkai unloading big planters of firework-shaped flowers from the trunk of his car, and greeted Gojyo with a polite smile and a placid, “I’ll start dinner if you could start hanging these on the hooks on the porch and setting the ones without hangers out in the garden. They’re just a little heavy for me.” He granted Gojyo a happy kiss on the cheek as Gojyo hoisted the first pot out. It was only when he and Hakkai had gotten the flowers – chrysanthemums, he soon learned – planted and arranged that Hakkai provided dinner. Every bite was delicious, and the view to the front yard was bright with purples, yellows, and reds. Gojyo didn’t even mind the mild trick; he remembered offering to help anyway, and Hakkai had been so happy working away at his side.

The next week, Hakkai remembered to ask first: “Could you help me mulch the flower beds? If I don’t do it now, I’m afraid I won’t have a chance before the first freeze. I’ll make dinner after.”

Dinner was dinner, even if Gojyo did spend three hours raking sweet-smelling cedar mulch into the garden and around the plants they’d put in last week before getting to it. Hakkai was working at it too, happily chattering about the garden between breaks for air.

“I was thinking I’d try to expand the beds around the side of the house, perhaps putting in some sort of mild vine. They’re difficult when left untamed, but a vine kept in check can be absolutely lovely.”

“Yeah?” Gojyo didn’t know much more about plants than “add water and sun, then cross your fingers.” He couldn’t contribute much more, but kept raking nonetheless.

“Yes.” Hakkai traced a swirling line along the corner of the house. “Like green draperies for the walls, with pretty little leaves on elegant, looping stems. I just worry about overgrowth. It’ll tangle the whole house if I’m not careful. I can get busy sometimes, and I feel so terribly guilty when I just can’t make time for my plants.”

“Well, they do look nice.”

“Hmm.” Hakkai made a contented noise and wiped his brow. “It is nice, being able to sit out with a book and enjoy them. It can be lonesome, living by myself, but outside I can hear the cars and neighbors through the treeline. It’s nice to have a view.” His focus landed on Gojyo with a significant weight, and Gojyo almost felt a tiny, playful little challenge in the words. His heart beat a step faster, and he found himself grinning a little.

“I don’t like thinkin’ about you being lonely. Maybe you ought'a get a housemate or something.”

“Do you think so?” Hakkai tapped his chin, then winked at Gojyo. “I suppose I have considered getting a cat.”

Gojyo hid the impact that brush-off had on him with a laugh. “Yeah, well, Christmas is coming up, so, uh, I guess we’ll just see, right?”

“I suppose we will.” Hakkai’s face crinkled with his mirth, but he dusted his hands and surveyed the plot. “Come inside, I’ll get you some iced tea and check on my roast.”

Over roasted chicken and sweet potatoes served on Hakkai’s square plates, Hakkai made one more grab at Gojyo’s time: “Were you busy tomorrow night?”

Gojyo had to work down a big mouthful of sweet potato, because he had never liked sweet potatoes before and damn if he was going to miss a bite now. “Shop closes at six, I’m free after that.”

“Do you think you could have a slightly later night and come help me with something at the bakery? I promise dinner, and making it worth your while.” Hakkai laced his fingers in a silent plea, and Gojyo found it impossible to say no to that face.

“What’d you have in mind? Need some tables moved?”

“Nothing so boring. In fact, it’s to do with Christmas. Like you said, it’ll be the holidays soon. It’ll be our bakery’s first holiday season, and I need to test my holiday recipes.”

“Test?” Gojyo raised an eyebrow, and Hakkai’s smile curled a little deeper.

“Taste test. I was going to stay late tomorrow preparing test batches of my recipes and sharing them with any employees willing to stay and try them. Our night crew will be there, of course, at least a few of our day crew will likely stop in, Sanzo will be there, I suggested he invite Goku and his parents, and I wanted to invite you.”

Gojyo laughed, rubbing his forehead. “Wait, so you actually have to ask if I’ll come and try your new recipes? That sounds awesome, I’m in, and I’ll drag the monkeywrench by his ear if High Lord Sanzo doesn't lower himself from his high horse to invite the guy he’s seeing.”

“Gojyo, now,” Hakkai chided, despite the amusement in his face. “I’m certain Sanzo will invite him. It’ll be fun, really, almost like a double date, just in the bakery and I’ll likely be baking more than tasting.”

“Hey, I guess I’ll kind of be working too, tasting your sweets and telling you exactly what I think.” He winked and pushed his empty plate back. “I’ll be completely honest, even if I do like you a whole lot.”

“Somehow, I wonder if I’ll have to. Perhaps a test.” Hakkai tapped the edge of his plate. “This is a new recipe. Opinion?”

Gojyo mustered up his confidence and broke it down: “It was awesome.” He chuckled, then thought up a few more details. “I’ve never eaten a sweet potato I liked before, but without marshmallows and pineapple, it’s really good. I like that buttery sauce, it was like, the exact right sort of sweet and savory and tangy. And the chicken was good! The skin was crispy and the meat was juicy.”

Hakkai tapped his lower lip, thinking. Then he said, “Say something negative.”

Gojyo bit his lip, but looked at his empty plate for a second. “Uh, in the middle of the breast, the skin was chewy, and some of the breast meat was a little plain.”

“Ah, perhaps I should have gone with my instincts to fill the bird with some aromatics to flavor it from the inside. I loathe ‘stuffing,’ but a bundle of herbs and spices inside of one’s poultry can boost the flavor.” Hakkai picked up the dishes and bent to kiss Gojyo’s forehead as he walked past him. “You’ll be an excellent critic.”

Gojyo grinned with glee in his chair. “I’ll be the best critic you could ask for.” Then, he jumped from his chair. “Hey, you cooked, lemme help with all that.”

The peaceful night continued until Hakkai saw Gojyo off at nightfall, with Gojyo still grinning stupidly at just how happy something like this could make him, even if Hakkai was getting a little free labor out of him. He turned back just in time to see the first-floor lights go out, and felt a little sting in his gut at the thought of Hakkai, alone in the house.

“He would'a asked,” he muttered to himself, turning his back. “Maybe, one'a these days, he will.”

* * *

Sanzo could admit that he was somewhat addicted to work. In his own mind, he didn’t like to be bored, and he didn’t have many friends or hobbies, so working six hours at the bakery and six hours for the antique shop was just a good way to fill his time. However, Hakkai preparing for a seasonal test was something to behold.

“Did you order more flour and sugar?” He asked of the white cloud traveling the kitchen. Hakkai briefly paused in rolling the flour bin to his block to beam at Sanzo.

“You know I did.”

Sanzo grimaced and turned a glare at the pots and pans lined up. “Are you feeding an army?”

“We’ve been through this before. I’ve got forty new recipes to sample, but I’ve made very small batches of each.” Hakkai dusted his scale, put a bowl onto it, and grabbed a notebook lined with mathematical formula. “Reduced each one so that we’d have just enough for everyone to have a little.” Then, he went on measuring, smiling and humming tunelessly. Sanzo propped his elbow on the block.

“Houmei says you were here when she got here to turn the ovens on, already up to your elbows in batter. Do you even know what time it is?” Hakkai pursed his lips, then turned to look at the clock on the wall.

“Just three, isn’t it?” He clicked his tongue. “My, my, only three hours left…”

“You’ve been here since two, haven’t you?” Sanzo crossed his arms, but Hakkai didn’t even pause, he just adjusted his scale and took the box of baking powder from the bottom of his table.

“I got the morning bake done early so I could begin scaling the test recipes. I’ve only got a little more to do, just the muffins and morning pastries, and the whipped creams, of course.”

“Of course.” Sanzo sneered. “Who are you trying to impress? You’ll exhaust yourself if you don’t lighten your load.”

“It’s only every once in a while.” Hakkai set the pile of dry ingredients aside and met Sanzo’s glare with his own clear, confident smile. “After all, there are others counting on me to put the best product forward. And… perhaps I do have someone to impress.” He dusted his hands and opened the sugar container that he’d posted on the right side of his station, pouring some into a bowl. “Gojyo said he’d come, and that he’d bring Goku whether you remembered to invite him or not.”

Sanzo swore and yanked his phone out, as Hakkai quietly tutted him. “See, now. I want Gojyo to see me at my best.”

“Idiot, you don’t have to do all this to impress him. I’m certain the moron is impressed by your capacity to string together polysyllabic words, you don’t have to run culinary circles around him. And didn’t I tell you to cool it?”

“Do you know, when I mentioned yesterday that I didn’t care for being alone, he all but offered to come keep me company? I tried to be coy with him, but he got nervous.”

Sanzo smacked his palm on his forehead. “You. Have. Known. Him. Two. Months.”

“I didn’t acquiesce. I’d like to be with him a little longer before I commit, but I can’t help it. Nobody’s felt this right with me, not since…” Hakkai paused, sighed, and shook his head. “There are people who take up with someone the day they meet.”

“We call those people idiots.”

“Perhaps it’s fate.”

“I don’t believe in fate, and you don’t either.”

“I have work to do. If you’re bored, kindly go assist customers.” Hakkai poured the sugar in his scoop onto the bowl in the scale, clearly deciding the best way to end this conversation was to ignore it. Sanzo grumbled and stalked away, muttering something about 'moron optimists,’ and Hakkai returned his attention to his recipe.

And other, more pleasant matters.

“Only three more hours to wait.” He smiled to himself, anticipating the moment Gojyo would walk through the door.

If he closed his eyes, he could picture the day when he was arriving back at his own house and waiting for Gojyo to come to that door, too. To hear his boots hit the mat, his husky laughter and sonorous baritone announcing his presence, the smell of cigarette smoke, gasoline, and cologne that reeked off of him, and his broad, crooked smile at seeing him at the end of his work day. Perhaps that day wouldn’t be too far off, either.

* * *

“Move it, monkeywrench, we’re gonna be late!” Gojyo couldn’t lock the garage bays fast enough. He’d been waiting on pins and needles for the last customer to pick his car up, and with the shop closed, he was tromping through the shop, stripping his jumpsuit off and untying his boots. Goku, too, yanked off his nametag and jumped into the bathroom.

“Just gotta fix my hair!”

“Asshole, I got grease on my face! Your hair’s gonna be a bird’s nest no matter what you do!” Gojyo got to the door a second after Goku locked it shut. He groaned, and stripped to his street clothes outside the bathroom door, then went to find his sneakers in the office. Sure, Hakkai had seen him in nearly everything but his skivvies, his jogging shorts, the nicest clothes he owned, and yes, his work clothes, but he didn’t want to show up in front of all of Hakkai’s employees looking like an oily slob. He tried to check over his shirt in case anything had dripped in, and checked his reflection in the dark screen of his laptop. Sure enough, oil streaked on his face again. He groaned to himself, then went to hover outside the bathroom door for Goku to finish. “Come on, you sat at the register for the last six hours, how bad can your damn hair be?!”

“Shut up, I mess with it while I’m studying!” Goku’s voice reverberated through the door, barely disguising his whine. He flung the door open, forcing Gojyo to dodge the knob. “And what’s your deal? Hakkai doesn’t care what you look like, I think he likes cleaning you off!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want him to worry about that. He’s working tonight, I should just be eye candy.”

“Just be eye candy!” Goku mockingly repeated him as Gojyo scrubbed his face until his cheeks were raw, but clean. Then, Gojyo threw an elbow back at him. “Quit that! Look, I’m telling you, you’re freaking out over nothing!”

“This ain’t nothing!” Gojyo dried his face on the front of his shirt, then tried to comb his hair out with his fingers. “Look, I feel like me and Hakkai, we got something special, and I don’t wanna be the one to fuck it up.”

“What makes you think you’re gonna fuck it up?”

“Dude, I am a fuck-up.” Gojyo gave up and tied his hair into a ponytail. Goku crossed his arms.

“Don’t say that. You shouldn’t talk down about yourself.”

“I’m a sexy fuck-up.” Gojyo hit the light and moved for the door with Goku at his heels. “Look, just, I’m not put together like he is. If one of us is gonna fuck up, it’s gonna be me.” He chuckled bitterly to himself as he hit the front light and shooed Goku out the front door so he could lock up. “You know I damn near fucked it up yesterday?”

“You did not.” Goku stuffed his hands in his sweatshirt pockets and glowered at Gojyo as he lit up a cigarette.

“Sure did. I basically offered to move in with him. He blew me off, laughing.” Gojyo sucked in the smoke, then blew it out in a thin stream. “At least he didn’t turn me down flat, but it made me think, I mean, what if this isn’t as good as I think it is?”

“Dude, he likes you a lot. He always looks like he’s over the moon when he’s around you.”

“Have you ever seen him when I’m not around?”

“Nah, if I go to the bakery when he’s there and you’re not, he’s usually holed up in there. If he does pop out at all, he’s smiling, but it’s different.” Goku shrugged, but sidestepped as Gojyo whipped his head around to face him and blew smoke out through his nose at him.

“Different?”

“Like, he’s smiling, but he doesn’t mean it. It’s just the face he wears. Around you, he smiles bigger, and his voice, like, it bounces more.” Goku motioned with his hand, up and down. “He’s more, uh, expressive. Plus, he fidgets, and he plays with his hair–” Goku mimicked putting his hair behind his ears, though his hair was too short to stay there – “And he just, he’s different. I think Sanzo notices, too. He always makes faces when you come in and Hakkai talks to you.”

“Yeah, that’s 'cause I’m a jackass and he ain’t never been nice to me.” Gojyo spit his cigarette butt at the ground, then tucked his hands into his armpits, shivering. “And goddamn, when did it get this cold?”

Goku snorted and shrugged. “Since it got to be the middle of October. Where’s your coat, dummy?”

Gojyo forced his hands to his sides. “I'unno.” He ignored Goku calling him an idiot, and hoped his coat was happy on Hakkai’s back.

The bakery was still open, but there were only a few customers still coming in and out. Gojyo didn’t recognize the man at the front counter, a tall, lean guy with wiry muscles, tan skin, short, dark hair under a striped cap, and a big grin. “Hey! The boss said we were expecting guests, a couple mechanics. Would that be you guys?”

Gojyo and Goku glanced at one another, and Goku volunteered, “Yeah, but how could you tell?”

The man at the counter chuckled and pointed at Gojyo. “That guy.”

Gojyo gritted his teeth. “What about me?”

“The picture on the boss’ phone. He showed me so I’d know to look for you.” He snickered, with only a little meanness in it. “I think I liked you better in the shorts, dude. Come on, smile, we’re gonna have fun tonight!”

Gojyo tried to ignore the heat in his face as he and Goku went closer, and the man motioned for them to come around the counter. “We’re gonna be in the kitchen, so you can go on back there and wash your hands and all.” Then, he held a hand out. “By the by, the name’s Hassan. I’m on the bread crew.”

Gojyo and Goku shook his hands in turn, but Goku asked, “Bread crew?”

“Sure.” Hassan pushed the bakeshop door open, and the whir of mixers grated in his ears. Goku cringed at the noise, but followed Hassan as he showed them to the sinks. “See,” he explained in a half-shout, “Bread takes a while, because you mix it, then it rises for a while, then you punch it down and shape it, and then it rises again, and then you bake it. The day crew measures the ingredients for us, but we do the mixing. There’s six different breads we make every night, plus daily specials, and while we wait for bread to rise, we usually scale the morning quickbreads so the morning guys can come in, mix, and bake right away.”

Gojyo whistled as he shook his hands off over the basin. “You guys basically operate twenty-four hours, huh?”

“Almost!” Hassan laughed, his voice cracking and sparking. “Ovens are on from six to two, usually, both AM and PM, and the kitchen is closed for cleaning for each two o'clock hour. Today’s a special case, 'cause Hakkai’s been doing test recipes for the last – if what Mr. Sanzo said is correct – sixteen hours.”

Gojyo stepped back, dizzied. “That long?”

“Yeah, Mr. Sanzo was pretty worried too. Except he was pretending he was pissed off, because that’s how he rolls.” Hassan shrugged, but motioned to the kitchen floor. “I think the rye will be done mixing in a minute, and you’ll be able to hear yourself think. Go ahead in.”

Just like Hassan promised, the din of the mixer suddenly settled, and Gojyo turned around to face the bakeshop kitchen. He’d seen peeks of it through the door before, but only the white floors and a glimpse of the tables. Now, he could see it in detail, the walls lined with racks and ovens and a huge industrial dishwasher, mixers that came up past his chest with bowls big enough for Goku to sit in, metal tables near the walls and four thick wood block counter-height tables in the center of the room. A few bakers were washing dishes or checking on dough in plastic tubs, and none of them seemed to pay much attention to Gojyo. Three of the block tables were dusted with flour or lined with trays, some flat and some that looked like a bunch of half-pipes lined up in a rectangle, but one of the block tables had a tablecloth and a small stack of plates on it and four stools arrayed around it. Hakkai was standing at the cooking surface in the back of the room, his hair pinned under his hat, his apron and arms dusty with flour and flecks of what looked like caramel on his front. He spun around when Gojyo cleared his throat, only to flash him a beam then turn back to the stove.

“Just a moment!” He pulled a pot of something off of the burner, then opened the oven beside him. Gojyo gaped at it: this was an oven a guy could get lost in. Someone could easily stuff four or five fully grown men in, and that was around the rack that was currently suspended from the ceiling. The rack had been rotating, but when Hakkai opened the door, the rotation stopped, and the rack slowly lowered to the ground to allow Hakkai (wearing thick oven mitts) to roll the entire rack out. He pulled one of the trays off of the rack and set it on the back of the cooktop, and motioned with a gloved hand for Gojyo to come closer. “Bring the plates, won’t you, please?”

Gojyo took a stack of the plates and crossed the room. Hakkai was the picture of contented exhaustion, blue rings under his eyes, a smug little smile in place, and with a coy wink, he took what appeared to be a sandwich off of the tray and laid it on the plate. “This is a castiello pan perdu, with slices of carved ham and, if you’ll indulge me a moment…” He took a ladle from the side of the stovetop, dipped it into the pot, and spread a creamy beige sauce that smelled like butter and onions on top. “Soubise sauce. Don’t worry; it’s just a béchamel made with diced, cooked onions. I’ll bring out the microgreens in a moment, I've made a salad.”

Gojyo remembered being eight and declaring he wasn’t going to eat anything he couldn’t spell. He was glad he had gotten over that. “I have no idea what most of that is, but it smells awesome.”

Hakkai laughed to himself, then pointed at the bread. “Castiello is an Italian bread made for workers, with meat and cheese baked into it so they could take a full, hearty meal with them in a single loaf of bread. Salami and parmesan are popular fillings, but I used bacon and cheddar for a more egalitarian flavor, then pan-cooked it with a savory egg custard flavored with a bit of lemon juice, mustard, and chives.”

Gojyo’s stomach growled. “It’s like a bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich, except it’s all in the bread.”

“Precisely. The ham should be self-explanatory, and béchamel is a white roux sauce, made with butter, flour, and milk, and I added sautéed onions for extra flavor. You can also add cheese, such as a jack and cheddar blend, and pour it over elbow pasta to make macaroni and cheese.” Hakkai put another filled plate into Gojyo’s hand. “Why don’t you take these plates to Goku and Sanzo? I’ve got to make some plates for Sharak’s crew, as well as one for myself.”

“Uh, sure.” Gojyo glanced over his shoulder, to where Goku was gaping at the plates and sucking back drool, then put his mouth near Hakkai’s ear. “But, uh, you look like you ought'a sit and rest. The bakery guy, Hassan, he said you’ve been at this since before dawn.”

“I’ll sleep well tonight.” Hakkai’s smile looked a little wobbly at that. “But this is something I find enjoyable. There’s coffee in the shop if we need it.”

Gojyo handed one plate to Goku and set the other down, warning him, “Don’t you eat 'til everyone’s at the table,” then helped Hakkai lay the rest of the plates out on the empty countertop. Just as Hakkai was scraping the last of the sauce onto a plate, Gojyo saw a sienna hand snake over his shoulder and swipe some of it off of the edge, and both he and Hakkai turned to see a woman licking the sauce off of her finger.

“Oh,” she murmured, smirking. “Oh, someone’s showing off tonight.”

Hakkai put his hands on his hips. “Sharak, we cross path so rarely, and you waste the precious time we have together mocking me?”

Sharak covered her mouth to stifle a rich chuckle, her tones dripping molasses and honey, as Gojyo took her in. The first thing he noticed was that she had a gorgeous face, a sculpted nose, cheekbones to die for, and a regal brow. The second thing he noticed were the scars next to her mouth and across her cheeks, then her cargo shorts and tee-shirt under her apron streaked with something brown. “I’m not lying, though. You’re trying to impress Mr. Short-Shorts here, am I right?” She extended a hand, and Gojyo took it just so she could squeeze it. “Sharak Sanzo. I’m the manager of the bread baking team, and the third managing partner of the business.”

Gojyo took his aching hand back and shook it out. “Gojyo Sha. I own the garage down the street.”

“I know your name, Mr. Short-Shorts.” Sharak had a smug little smirk. “Hakkai made certain to mention you to me, and how good of a repairman you are. Sanzo also mentioned you were a flying jackass and to treat you with all due disdain.”

“Sharak, please be kind to him, he’s perfectly nice.” Hakkai gave her a mildly cross look, and she sniffed with an air of superiority Gojyo had come to expect out of anyone with the name Sanzo.

“I will judge that for myself. The sauce is delightful, Hakkai, please leave a plate for me while I examine the dough.” She retreated to the working side of the kitchen, clearly looking for something, and Hakkai held the plate to Gojyo.

“For Miss Sharak, of course. Set it on the counter near the bread bowls.” He ladled sauce on, but as Gojyo took it, he leaned close to Hakkai again.

“Okay, dumb question, but is she any relation to the other Sanzo?”

“It doesn’t seem as such, no. They’d never met before I hired her, and Toudai has no recollection of any cousins from her part of the globe. Perhaps it’s merely one of those odd, universal alignment types of coincidences.” Hakkai giggled and took up another plate of bread and ham. “I’ll get ours, and we can eat.”

When Gojyo returned to the table, he found Hakkai had poured the sauce onto his plate in the shape of a white heart, and Goku was snickering. “Oh my god, dude, and you were worried–”

“You’re shutting up,” Gojyo grumbled, then spoke aloud, “And where’s Sanzo, anyway?” Goku made an uncomfortable noise and shrugged, but Hakkai answered.

“He was in the office last I checked. Oh dear, he hasn’t come out yet?” Hakkai tsked a few times. “Goku, the office door is outside of the bakery, on the right. Would you kindly…” Hakkai hardly had to ask Goku to kindly do anything, because he hopped from his stool and scampered to the bakery floor again. Hakkai took the opportunity to join Gojyo at the table, set a bowl of something green down, and kiss him on the cheek. “I’m terribly glad you came to help.”

“Hey, I wouldn’t miss trying your food for the world.” Gojyo found his hand at his side and squeezed it, then led Hakkai to one of the stools. “Siddown, will ya? You worked hard, you deserve a break.”

Hakkai managed a weary little chuckle, and obliged, just as Goku burst back in with Sanzo in tow. “I found him! He said he was working on next week’s ordering.”

Hakkai hummed inquisitively. “I thought you were going to wait until after the tasting for that.”

“We always need flour and sugar,” Sanzo muttered, pretending to be put out as Goku ushered him onto the stool next to his. “And we’re going to need apples and pumpkin no matter what the final decisions are.”

“Yes, but what kind of apples, and in what ratios?” Hakkai crossed his arms, and Sanzo snorted and turned his face away. “It’s a conversation we can have tomorrow. For now, why not some dinner?”

That was prompting enough. Gojyo and Goku had both felt their stomachs grumbling at the rich, buttery, savory scent wafting from the plates, and neither of them bothered to wait long once Hakkai passed around forks and knives. Gojyo faintly noticed Sharak’s team, Hassan and three other bakers, picking up their plates and settling near the mixers, and set about cutting up his bread and ham into bites. He got a little of everything on the first bite, ham, bread, sauce, and even the little salad Hakkai put on everyone’s plate, and when he bit down, the flavor burst over his tongue and teeth like a broken dam.

He moaned like someone had just teased his ass, eliciting a dirty look from Sanzo. “What?”

“Don’t make noise like that when you’re eating.” Sanzo had actually taken a little color, and couldn’t quite look at Gojyo when he swallowed and ran his tongue around the rim of his mouth. Goku snickered, but Gojyo merely licked his fingers.

“Can’t help it, man, it’s like the god of deliciousity came in my mouth and wants me to swallow.” He went for another bite, halted only when Goku choked with laughter.

“G-gojyo, that’s gross!”

Gojyo snickered. “Nah, it’d be gross if I said–” He realized Hakkai was watching him intently, with a little admonishment in the corners of his lips. “Uh, some stuff I’m not gonna say, 'cause we’re eating, yeah.”

“Deliciousity isn’t even a word.” Sanzo was pinching the space between his eyes, his fork pinched tight between his fingers. “Don’t coin terms just to use them for perverted analogy. You could just say, 'the food is better than anything my meaty hands and fatty brain could produce, thank you,’ and eat in silence.”

“Puh-lease.” Gojyo took another big bite, pausing in chewing just long enough to lick the sauce off of his chin. “I can be silent when I’m in the grave. I make noise to make sure Hakkai knows just how damn much I appreciate this.” He turned to Hakkai. “Not tryin’ to be gross, you know, it’s just, you know, this is so goddamn good, I just…”

“You’re beyond words.” Hakkai was clearly making an effort to be gracious. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, of course. Nobody’s ever complimented my cooking quite like that before.”

Before Gojyo could accept, Sanzo cut in, “And hopefully never again. Hakkai, how are we going to taste test things with a heavy meal on us?”

“It’s not that heavy, I didn’t give you that much.” Hakkai shuffled some of the ham and bread around on his plate, picking up the sauce. “And the taste test will be merely samples, small plates, one or two bites. So, hopefully you are hungry enough for several bites of dessert.”

Gojyo chuckled and pushed his empty plate back. “Are you kidding?” He tugged Goku’s shirt sleeve. “Me and this kid, we got appetites. Pretty sure the shorty can outdo me any day, but I’ll eat anything you put in front of me and tell you how great it is.”

Hakkai giggled into his palm. “If it is too much, of course, we can continue tomorrow, but I’m confident we can try a little of everything we have.”

Hakkai cleared their empty plates, and Gojyo watched him vanish into the walk-in refrigerator, ignoring Sanzo’s quiet conversation with Goku (asking how his schoolwork was going, the boring old man), and he sat stark upright when Hakkai pulled out a cart loaded with covered plates. “You really have been hard at work, huh?”

“I had so much I wanted to try.” He took off the dish nearest him, lifted the lid just enough that he could peer under, then chuckled happily and set it on the table. “Let’s begin here, with the pie. The American side of town, nearest the military base, they’re going to want some beautiful apple pie.” He unveiled the dish, revealing three small pies, dressed with flaky golden crusts that smelled of brown sugar, each marked with a different shape punched out of the top. Hakkai took a notepad from his pocket. “I kept track of which blend of apples I used in each one like so. The pie with a bird cut out has mostly green apples with a few Braeburns, the pie with the star is an even mix of Fuji and Granny Smith, and the pie with the heart has a blend of four apples, Fuji, Granny Smith, Pink Lady, and Braeburn.”

Goku cocked his head as Hakkai carved the pie into tiny slices, and as Sharak’s team swarmed around Hakkai to grab plates and take pieces. “No Red Delicious? They’re the only apple I know.”

“I’m not surprised.” Hakkai rubbed his chin as he passed Goku a plate with one slice on it. “They’re very popular, but they’re not good for pies. I soak my apples in sugar to pull excess moisture from them, and they get very mealy after that. Actually, they’re rather mealy to begin with.”

Goku shrugged, then picked up his first piece of pie. “I dunno, they taste good, anyway.” He ate each piece with enthusiasm, barely pausing to chew, even as Gojyo was just getting his plate.

“Actually taste it, idiot, it’s Hakkai’s cooking, you gotta enjoy it.” Gojyo turned his attention to his own slices, chewing his lower lip. “Man, I dunno where to start, though!”

“I suggest going in order. I lined them up from left to right in the order I described them.” Hakkai passed a plate with very small pieces to Sanzo. “Do you need a refresher?”

Sanzo took the plate, an eyebrow raised. “I was listening.” Before he could pick his fork up, Goku had grabbed his and scooped Sanzo’s first piece up.

“Say 'ah!’” Goku beamed, holding the fork out. Sanzo turned about six shades of pink, then grabbed Goku’s fork and fed it to himself.

“Don’t be stupid,” he said after swallowing, then picked up the next piece on his own. Gojyo finished his and considered the empty plate for a moment.

“Gonna say door number three there, babe. The first two were good, but I feel like the spices you had in there blended in better with the different apples.”

Sanzo snorted something about 'show-off,’ but Goku nodded vigorously and thrust his fork in the air. “Yeah, the third one!”

Sharak’s people contributed, mostly “three” with a few “two” votes, and Sharak herself laughed. “I am in the minority. I prefer the bitter apples in the first pie.”

“You’re being contrary,” Sanzo muttered, eliciting a there-and-gone flick of Sharak’s tongue, and pushed his plate towards Hakkai. “The third one is acceptable, though I prefer the second.”

Hakkai, all too pleased, made a note in his book. “That decides it, and definitively!” He motioned for Sharak and her crew to come closer, and unveiled the next plate. “Next, I’ve made pumpkin pie, the same filling, but two different cracker crusts, one with brown butter, the other with regular butter.”

The brown butter crust was wildly more popular, but this devolved into an argument between Sanzo and Sharak over whether the extra labor was worth the better flavor, since they couldn’t charge more without becoming less competitive. Gojyo zoned out and sucked every last morsel off of his fork, before contributing, “Uh, the regular butter is still really good. Like, really good.”

“I trust you.” Hakkai patted his hand, curling his thumb into his palm. “Most people won’t know the difference anyway, it was merely an experiment. The regular butter crust it is. Now,” and here, he spoke to the room, “I have different fillings for the pumpkin pie, as well!”

As Gojyo sampled the different spice formulations for the fillings, he couldn’t help but remark, “It’s weird, how you change a few little things and a lot changes.” He poked at some of the custard. “You said this one was more nutmeg?”

“Nutmeg, grains of paradise, and a pinch of allspice, yes.” Hakkai tented his fingers, observing as Gojyo picked at it. “I thought I would bring in some harvest flavors. Most people prefer the traditional 'pumpkin pie spice’–”

Just then, Sharak put her fork up. “Pumpkin spice. With the cinnamon.”

“Yeah, pumpkin spice,” Goku agreed, but managed a weary grin. “Sorry, Hakkai, I gotta go traditional.”

“I like the different one.” Gojyo prodded at it with his fork again. “It’s got a really good sweetness to it.”

“You’ve been outvoted.” Sanzo pushed his plate to Hakkai, and the rest of Sharak’s team voiced agreement. Gojyo shrugged but held his hands up.

“Whatever. The other one’s still good.”

Hakkai, however, cast a surprisingly sharp glare around the room. “I honestly think you’re all merely accustomed to the pumpkin pie spice, leaving you less receptive to new options.”

“You can give us that shit,” Sanzo countered, his palm flat and tense on the table. “But what are you going to tell customers when they ask why their pumpkin pie doesn’t taste like pumpkin pie?”

Hakkai held his hands up. “You are correct. I concede the point. It was an experiment. The traditional spice wins.”

Sharak chuckled under the rattle of china as she gathered her crew’s plates. “Sorry, Hakkai, I appreciate the new recipe, but sometimes, what’s good merely is good.”

“Yes.” He accepted the plates, eyes downcast. “But I had anticipated this anyway. I’ve prepared the pumpkin cheesecakes and tarts with the classic spice blend.” He put on a showman’s smile and went for the next plate. “Let’s begin with the single-serving tarts, yes? I’ve made variations on pumpkin-sweet potato, apple-pear, and walnut divinity crème…”

As the group mulled over the different tarts, Goku leaned over towards Sharak. “Hey, Miss Manager?”

“Don’t you 'miss’ or 'ma'am’ me, little boy.” Sharak smirked at Goku, and he shrank. “Sharak is fine, and what can I do for you?”

“I was just wondering how you know Sanzo and Hakkai.” He looked between Sanzo, Hakkai, and her. “Or, how you met them. Did you go to school with them?”

Sharak laughed, shaking her head. “Hell, no, do I look that wet behind the ears?” Sanzo snorted and crossed his arms.

“She’s been in the baking business longer than the two of us combined.”

“Age before beauty,” Hassan added, grinning, only to get an elbow to the shoulder from Sharak.

“Smartass. No.” She set her hands on her hips. “My father emigrated to the States from Nepal and joined the army. I was just an army brat. We were stationed here when I graduated secondary school, and I went to college here. I’ve worked in other bakeries before, and first met Hakkai while he was working in a bread shop with me. Hakkai remembered me and recruited me with the promise of more creative freedom.”

“Our fathers were cousins by marriage,” Hassan volunteered. “So, we grew up knowing each other, and where she went, I followed.”

Goku rubbed his chin, nodding. “Gee, seems like you really do draw in all types, huh, Sanzo?”

“It’s our aim.” Hakkai spoke before Sanzo could grouse something dismissive, pausing only to slice a full loaf of something orange and brown straight down the center. “We want to make things that appeal to everyone, which is why we’re trying so hard to produce desserts for the locals and the people who settled around the base, as well as the large Japanese migrant population. Different origins makes for preferences to different desserts, yes?”

“Sure, makes sense.” Gojyo shrugged, but Goku poked his shoulder.

“Hey, so, you don’t look American or Japanese, or anything, really. What’re y-”

“Yeah?” Gojyo smirked and caught Goku’s fingers, giving them a hard squeeze. “S'why I like everything Hakkai puts out. What'cha cuttin’ up there, now?” He pushed Goku’s hand back, as Goku snorted and scowled at him. Hakkai didn’t seem to notice.

“This is a pumpkin-chocolate breakfast loaf, with chocolate chips. I was considering making the same recipe into muffins, or if you’ll indulge me, muffles.”

“The hell,” Sharak laughed, “is a muffle?”

Hakkai, giggling, explained the concept of a muffin batter made into a cookie shape as he passed around cubes of the bread, all while Goku glowered at Gojyo. Gojyo tried to ignore him. He was too content sampling everything Hakkai put in front of him.

The tart shells were just the right kind of sweet and flaky, crispy, and Hakkai folded the crust around the rim to look like an origami dish. The walnut divinity was the best, with ground walnuts in sweet crème Anglaise and chopped, toasted walnut crust, but his recipes for apple and pumpkin were all winners. Sanzo and Sharak occasionally battled over the better flavor over the cost of the recipe, especially when it came to the debate of using pure butter over a butter-shortening combination. Hakkai ended this debate:

“I prefer the butter and shortening combination. It makes the crust easier to roll out. Pure butter tastes better, but it falls apart, and besides, the finished product isn’t as tender as the crust made with a little shortening.”

“Why is that, anyway?” Gojyo asked as Hakkai moved on to the filled eclairs. He heard one or the guys on Sharak’s team snicker, but ignored it. Hakkai glanced over towards the bread bakers, then to Gojyo.

“It has to do with the way different kinds of fat melt. Shortening is sturdier, solid but soft at room temperature, but butter can firm up again. I would never use shortening for a puff pastry, but a little shortening can make a pie crust a little tougher.” He dished out slices of the tarte on his tray and handed Gojyo his plate first. “This, for example, is a pastry made with butter that is folded over and rolled multiple times to create a hundred layers, baked on top of an apple compote, then flipped so that the filling is visible.” Gojyo and Goku both 'ooh'ed and 'aah'ed over the pastry, at all the apple slices caramelized in their own sweet juices that looked like the myriad petals of a ranunculus, as Hakkai giggled. “It’s called tarte-tatin. This one is filled with apples, and I have one made with ginger-poached pears. Do we think we can sell these in wholes and slices, or should we perhaps make them as a special order?”

Goku consumed his slice in two bites, groaning his appreciation. “Can I order like six?”

That was enough for Gojyo to go for it, and broke a piece off. The crust was crispy on top and melted in Gojyo’s mouth, and the apples were perfect and sweet. “Oh man, make it seven.”

“It’s delicious,” Sharak sighed, brushing crumbs from her mouth. “But the preparation process is extensive, is it not? I’m not certain we can justify selling them regularly, even if the fruits are perfectly in season.”

“Except this would appeal to the Japanese population in the city. French desserts are huge. How much work is it?” Sanzo’s plate was already empty, and he looked both angry and consternated. Hakkai sighed, and began to describe the process. Gojyo, meanwhile, served himself another slice.

The argument wasn’t resolved before Gojyo and Goku managed to split the rest of the tarte-tatin between themselves and Sharak’s team.

Between rounds, Gojyo had spotted the bakers getting up and moving through the kitchen, and sometimes not all of them would come back. They had been pounding out dough, cutting it into chunks and forming it into shapes or putting it into loaf-shaped pans. One dough got divided, then split into five equal pieces which were rolled out and braided together into a single loaf. Sharak would move from her place sometimes to check on their work, to poke a dough sitting on a tray or in a red refrigerator-like box with a steamy front window (Gojyo heard someone calling it a 'proof box,’ temperature and humidity controlled to help the bread rise), or to quietly give directions. However, when Sharak got up this time, it was to bring out a tray of her own.

“At Hakkai’s request and with his assistance, I baked a few holiday breads.” She laid a large platter out with little fanfare, and pointed around at the spread: first, one of those braided breads, “This is a monkey bread, or pull-apart bread. I have one made with apple compote and one made with a pumpkin jam, both graciously provided by Hakkai,” then a tall golden loaf flecked with brown and red, “a panettone, filled with rum-soaked golden raisins and dried cherries,” a long loaf with a cream split down the center and covered with powdered sugar, “a stollen, a traditional4'

German bread filled with almond paste,” then to the last, a flat bread shaped like a leaf, “and a French fougasse, flavored with orange oil and anise seed.”

Gojyo whistled. “These are all bread? I only really see bread as like, baguettes, or the slices, y'know?”

Sharak looked unimpressed, lips pursed. “Bread comes in many forms,.” She put her hands on her hips. “But these are yeast doughs, baked as loaves, so they are breads.”

Hakkai held a knife towards Sharak, handle first. “Here, I think he’ll really like panettone.” He gave Gojyo a bolstering smile. “You’re learning new things tonight, aren’t you?”

“Y-yeah.” Gojyo took the slice of sweet-scented bread from Sharak and turned it over, suddenly not wanting to look her in the eyes, then took a bite. “It’s real good. Kinda tastes like licorice, though. Is it supposed to?”

Sharak was busily distributing pieces of the bread to her crew, leaving Hakkai to answer: “Yes, anise has somewhat of a licorice flavor. Black licorice was flavored with anise. I believe Sharak boiled the water for this bread with orange peel and star anise seeds, and added some of the essential oils to the dough.”

Gojyo picked another chunk off of the bread. “It’s, uh, got a strong flavor.”

Hakkai put a hand on Gojyo’s shoulder. “You don’t have to like it. Here, try the panettone.” He swiftly replaced the chunk of fougasse with a narrow slice of panettone, which was dotted with the raisins and cherries. “Most people who’ve had panettone before dislike it because it uses candied fruits. I thought the rum-soaked fruits would be much better.” Gojyo shrugged, but took a nibble. The plump cherry he’d found in his bite was sweet with heady rum, and he chuckled.

“Oh, that’s better for not remembering that you ate it. It’s delicious, but that–” he shook the bread for emphasis – “Is boozy.”

“Is it that bad?” Hakkai’s brow knit up. “Perhaps I shouldn’t give any to Goku.”

Before Goku could plead for his treat, Sharak barked a laugh. “How young is he, Kouryuu? I never picked you for a cradle robber!”

“Hey, I’m not a kid!” Goku grabbed at the bread, as Sanzo got to his feet, scowling.

“Sharak, a word outside.”

“Oh, no.” Sharak crossed her arms and tossed her braid back behind her head, smirking. “I think anything you have to say can be said inside.”

Sanzo ground his teeth together, until Hakkai, forcing a laugh, got between them. “Let’s keep this to baked goods and good-natured ribbing, shall we?”

Goku, meanwhile, was on his third slice of panettone. “Man, Gojyo wasn’t kidding, you could get drunk off'a this!” He was also trying to sneak an arm around Sanzo’s shoulder with a piece of bread to tuck into Sanzo’s mouth. Sanzo swatted his hands back from himself and from the tray and glared at Hakkai.

“Is there an alternative to soaking the fruits in rum?”

As Sharak and Hakkai debated how to best flavor the panettone fruit,Gojyo and Goku squabbled briefly over which of the monkey breads were better, before some of Sharak’s bakers gave the deciding votes that both were equally good and worthy of being offered for sale. Hakkai went to bring out one last cake once the breads were gone, giving Sharak the opportunity to turn her laser focus onto Gojyo.

“So, you’re a mechanic, are you not? Are you prepared for your Christmas rush?”

Gojyo frowned. “Christmas rush?” A few of Sharak’s bakers laughed, and Gojyo scowled around, but looked back at her. “What do you mean?”

Sharak scoffed and tossed her hair, huffing a little laugh. “There will be a rush, of course. Many people travel for the holidays, to visit family, or to the mountains for skiing, so you will have lots of people coming in for emergency service. How long have you been in business?”

Gojyo chewed his lower lip, until Goku nudged his arm. “About ten months, right?”

Gojyo kept his eyes down. “Yeah.”

“Hmph.” She crossed her arms. “Your first Christmas, then. Be ready, stock up on disposables, and hire seasonal staff if you must. It’ll be rocky.” Sharak walked away to check on the breads in the proof box, and Gojyo hung his head. Hassan chuckled, but Goku nudged his shoulder.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Here we are!” Hakkai busted out with one last covered dish, and Gojyo looked up, eyebrow raised, as he unveiled a round cake that was frosted a snow-capped mountain white and decorated outlandishly with a ring of strawberries, tinsel, pistachios, peppermints to border the bottom, and a miniature wreath stuck in the middle. Sharak returned to the table and promptly clapped a hand to her mouth, but Hassan was the first to laugh aloud.

“Is that an honest-to-goodness Christmas cake?”

“It is.” Hakkai looked all too proud of his hideous creation. Gojyo was struck dumb, but didn’t dare say an unkind word to Hakkai.

“It’s… supposed to look like that? I’ve never seen one before.” Goku and Hakkai and two of Sharak’s bakers laughed, as Sanzo tapped the table.

“They’re not supposed to look like anything. Christmas cakes are a Japanese tradition. They’re sponge cakes, topped with white frosting and strawberries, and then decorated in the ugliest Christmas stuff you can think of.”

“They’re light, fluffy, and fun for the entire family!” Hakkai distributed a few slices. “Think of them as ugly Christmas sweaters, or garish Christmas trees.”

“Oh.” Gojyo was a little relieved that the middle of the cake was a pure, fluffy golden color, filled with a strawberry cream, and Hakkai had made certain he got one of the strawberries from the edge. Hakkai let his fingers linger on Gojyo's shoulder for a moment, then spoke to the room.

“I was thinking we could sell the base cake, and people could order different toppers and decorations. For now, let me know what you think of the cake and icing!”

Gojyo took a bite, but he knew he didn’t have to taste it. “It’s good.” Everything Hakkai made was good. He was some heaven-sent angel of cookery, and everything he made tasted fantastic. He mustered a little more just so he wouldn’t seem like a scrub: “The cake is fluffy, and the icing is really, really sweet. Like, maybe a little too sweet, but isn’t it supposed to be?”

Hakkai hummed, leaning his elbow on the counter as he picked at his cake. “There is a bit of a trend towards sweets that aren’t overly sweet, but…” He broke off into a broad yawn. “I think that’s silly.”

Sharak whistled and patted Hakkai on the back. “I do believe the pastry’s catching up with you.”

“Yeah.” Gojyo yanked his cell phone out, to find it was past ten. “Shit, you’ve been awake at least twenty hours, no wonder.” He got to his feet. “Hey, everyone cool with just telling Hakkai his cake is delicious, and I get him home?”

Hakkai sagged against the table, but waved a hand. “Gojyo, no, I’m fine.” Around him, however, Sharak’s team and Goku were raising their hands and calling out their two cents.

“The cake is fluffy, it’s perfect.”

“I like the sugary icing, it’s just like the ones my folks buy at home!”

“I like it!” Goku beamed, then waved. “Go home and sleep, m'kay?”

Hakkai laughed and smeared his hand over his face. “I suppose that concludes the tasting.” Gojyo took that as his cue to slide off his stool.

“Go on and get your jacket. I’ll give you a ride home.”

Hakkai was stumbling a little when Gojyo walked him outside. Gojyo slung an arm around him to keep him upright. “Point me to your car, babe.” He shivered a little; the chill had set in quickly after the sun went down, but Hakkai lolling on his chest was enough to help him forget the cold. Hakkai, however, frowned when he noticed that Gojyo only had his tee-shirt on in the October night.

“You must be freezing. I’m sorry, can I–” Hakkai was already starting to take his jacket off, but Gojyo stopped him.

“Nah, nah, my own silly fault.” Gojyo shrugged and braced himself. “Don’t you worry about me, I’m fine.”

Hakkai’s little car was parked close, and Gojyo only had to adjust the seat a little to fit. Hakkai slumped into his seat, tiredness catching up with him as his body slowed, his mind following.

“You know the way, right?” He yawned again, and Gojyo nodded as he put the car in gear.

“It’s not far.”

Hakkai leaned on his shoulder for the short ride, and Gojyo drove as smoothly and carefully as he could, trying not to jostle him. Hakkai roused when he pulled into the driveway, blinking and rubbing his eyes under his glasses. “Ah, I forgot. How will you get home?”

“I can walk. It’s only three or four miles.” Gojyo shrugged and unbuckled Hakkai’s seat belt. Hakkai shook his head.

“It’s not safe.” Hakkai’s voice was muddy, but his intentions clear. “If you stay the night, I’ll make you breakfast, give you a ride home to get clean clothes in the morning and take you to work.”

That offer sounded sweeter than any of Hakkai’s pastries. Gojyo almost lost himself in thinking of waking up next to him. Maybe, just maybe, it couldn’t hurt to accept. “I guess I can’t say no to an offer like that.”

Gojyo hadn’t dared to ask if Hakkai had a pull-out sofa or if he could just have a blanket, because he could sleep anywhere, really, but after taking off his shoes and waiting for him to do the same, Hakkai led him up the steps. Hakkai’s bedroom was the loft over the main level of the house, with a pointed ceiling under the eaves. Gojyo worried he might hit his head near the corners, but it felt cozy and intimate. Hakkai fished through his drawers as he brushed his teeth to find an oversized shirt for Gojyo to wear, and Gojyo took in the room. Hakkai’s furniture was pale oak, drawers lined with cream velvet. The bed matched the dresser and armoire, pushed flush to the wall under a wide half-moon window, and the bleach-white linens were soft, fluffy, and smelled fresh. Gojyo didn’t dare touch it. He moved along the side to peer out the window to see the driveway below, Hakkai’s little car, and the broad trees that blocked most of the view, and spoke just over the running water from the bathroom: “The house faces North, right?” Hakkai mumbled an affirmation around his toothbrush. “You must see the sunrise sky perfectly.”

“Only when the sun rises before I do.” Hakkai spoke with a lilt in his voice, then held a shirt out for Gojyo. “But the view at night is fine, too.”

Gojyo stripped his pants off, before realizing Hakkai was still in the room. Hakkai hadn’t said a word, instead seating himself on the bed, cleaning his glasses and sneaking a furtive glance at Gojyo’s boxer shorts. Gojyo took this as a sign he could take the rest of his clothing off, and put it in a pile like he would at home. Hakkai made a little face and coughed, then motioned to a wicker hamper by the closet door. Oh, Hakkai was like that. Gojyo shouldn’t have been surprised. As he got up to pick his clothes up, Hakkai yawned, but spoke through it and motioned to the bathroom, “I left you a clean toothbrush. I’ll be right here.”

Gojyo moved for the door, but halted and wagged a finger at Hakkai. “Try to wait up for me, okay?” Hakkai flapped a hand, yawning again.

“I’ll be here. Don’t hurry on my account. I’d rather you have to wake me up than give yourself a cavity.”

Hakkai had slumped a little, his breathing even and shallow, but he roused when Gojyo came back and smiled as he settled into the empty side of the bed. The mattress was just right, a little cushy, but firm and supportive, and the sheets were like fine sand. Gojyo felt a sting of guilt and looked at his hand. Hakkai noticed, and touched his fingers. “What’s wrong?”

“Just, y'know. Making sure there’s no grime under my nails or anything.”

Hakkai frowned and captured his fingers, then kissed them. “They’re clean. Come to bed.”

Gojyo hesitated. For a moment, he remembered all the raised eyebrows he’d gotten over the night, and Hakkai’s brush-off before. Then, he slid into the sheets, and Hakkai fell into his arms, his chest to Gojyo’s, and Gojyo forgot. “Damn,” he muttered warmly, appreciatively. “You’re gonna fall asleep without even closing your eyes, huh?”

“Maybe.” Hakkai yawned yet again, louder this time, and Gojyo found himself yawning too. “Kanan told me I would sometimes?”

Gojyo ran a hand down his back, frowning. “Your… sister, right?”

“Mhm.” Hakkai sounded oddly somber. “Back when I was in college, she would come up on me on a marathon work session, studying or writing an essay, and have to drag me to eat, bathe, and sleep. I tend to get into projects like this, and throw myself into it.”

“Yeah?” Gojyo tightened his hold on Hakkai. “She took care of you, huh?” Hakkai made a sad but agreeing noise. “I’m just gonna have to do that for ya.” He shifted so that Hakkai’s chin tucked into the join of his neck and shoulder. “You just tell me when there’s gonna be another marathon, and I’ll make sure to put sandwiches in your face and put your butt in bed whenever you get wobbly.”

“Oh, Gojyo.” Hakkai kissed his collarbone, then up his neck. “Gojyo, Gojyo…” He repeated his name sleepily, and Gojyo rubbed his back with his palm, until Hakkai managed a complete thought. “I’ll tell you. And I’ll make it worth your while. Breakfast tomorrow… eggs? Toast?”

Gojyo chuckled. “Whatever is fine.” He turned off the light and eased down into the comfort of Hakkai’s bed, Hakkai’s embrace, Hakkai. Anything Hakkai made for him was good, and he would do anything for a home-cooked meal from him.

Hell, maybe he didn’t need the bribe. Hakkai himself might have been enough.

* * *

Gojyo’s 5-AM alarm was obnoxious. His snoring, while loud, was at least charming, if only because it was him. Hakkai turned off his alarm and pushed a few wayward strands of carmine hair from his face. His long eyelashes fluttered in the pale, clear light of dawn just peering over the horizon. Unable to resist, Hakkai kissed his forehead.

It had been years since someone had shared a bed with him. He’d gone on a few lackluster dates, all arranged by Sharak, but he’d never been able to muster more than mild interest in their offerings. Never enough for a second date, never an invitation home, and when he was invited home for coffee or a lurid thing more, he had politely declined. Gojyo had captivated him with a simple sort of charm and a single act of kindness, and when the opportunity to bring him in presented himself like a leaf tumbling into his stream, Hakkai merely went with the flow. Now, he woke to a warm quilt and a loud snore and long eyelashes and a sleepy smile.

Gojyo did snore. He also mumbled in his sleep, and though he held Hakkai in his arms, his hands roved and roamed. The only reason Hakkai was awake before the alarm was because Gojyo’s warm, strong hands had taken place on his pectoral muscle and hip and were caressing his skin, and he had felt Gojyo smiling against his shoulder. Hakkai had expected his grooming manners to be a little better, but at least he’d corrected himself when reminded. Waking up, however, to find this face next to his, feel his warmth, and to enjoy his smile – a smile just for him – outweighed any possible drawbacks.

He kissed Gojyo’s forehead again, then his nose, and Gojyo cracked an eyelid open. His sleepy smile spread to a deliberate, genuine grin. “G'morning, sunshine.”

“I’m afraid you’re the only sunshine in this room. It’s not quite down, and your alarm went off five minutes ago.” Hakkai kissed him on the nose, then crawled from the bed and stretched his arms over his head. Gojyo stifled a disappointed grunt, but sighed.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Gojyo groaned and rolled from the bed, shivering as his feet touched the floor. “Can I get a quick shower here? My pants are still clean enough for one more day.”

It was Hakkai’s turn to hold back a disappointed noise, but he gestured to the door. “The towels are in the linen closet. How do you take your eggs?”

Gojyo stripped off his sleep shirt, still grinning. “Cooked is fine. Any way. Surprise me, babe.” Hakkai couldn’t help but enjoy the perfect sculpt of his trapezius muscles as he strolled out, before shaking it off to set himself at the morning tasks.

The thought, however, lingered: he wouldn’t mind having that every morning.

* * *

Hakkai had gone back upstairs as Gojyo slipped his feet back into his shoes. Breakfast had been simple but tasty, and Hakkai’s company as enjoyable as it always was despite the early hour. Gojyo hardly wanted to leave, back out into a cold world where there were cold stares and no promises of sweet things or happiness. He would just have to remember the morning for as long as he could.

“Gojyo?” Hakkai peered down from the top of the steps, almost as if he hadn’t expected Gojyo to be there. Gojyo waved up to him, and Hakkai descended with his arms behind his back. “I, er, I had something for you. Nothing special.” He landed in front of Gojyo, his shoulders tight, and Gojyo cocked his head. “I, er, I borrowed it, yes?” He pulled his arms from behind him and lifted up a familiar-looking suede jacket – Gojyo’s, in fact, but as clean as the day Gojyo had bought it. “I wore it the entire time I was sick, so I had it cleaned and replaced the worn spots on the elbows.” He held it out. “I’m dreadfully sorry it took me this long to give it back to you. I only hope the cold hasn’t chafed you.”

Gojyo couldn’t smell cigarettes on it anymore. In fact, all he could smell was detergent and the faintest whiff of Hakkai. He almost felt bad knowing he was just going to get it dirty again. He pulled it on without a second thought. “It’s nicer than it was when I got it.” He kissed Hakkai on the cheek. “Thanks.” Hakkai looked too pleased with himself as Gojyo tugged it on, and Gojyo smoothed it to his chest. The cold wouldn’t bite at him now. The coat was half Hakkai’s now, with all the love and care he’d put into it, so he could keep Hakkai with him.

Getting into the car was hard. Getting out would be harder. But Hakkai drove him smoothly to the garage door and kissed him on the cheek after putting the car in park. “I’ll bring you some coffee, and lunch, later.”

“You’re the best.” Gojyo accepted the kiss with a smug grin, then turned his face and caught Hakkai’s mouth to his. His tongue was sweet and warm, and his enthusiasm in returning the kiss intoxicating.

Could he have this every day?

“I–”

Was this just a taste of what he could look forward to?

“I lo–”

“Gojyo?”

Hakkai’s eyes were open, and he was gazing into Gojyo’s face. Gojyo’s mouth moved soundlessly against Hakkai’s for a moment, and he swallowed his thoughts into a smile and a rasp of, “I’ll see you later, okay?”

He got out and waited on the sidewalk next to the door as Hakkai carefully put his little car in reverse, and finally lit a cigarette as he pulled away. He had a minute. Maybe at lunch, he could go get a clean shirt, but for now, the cigarette was a good start. “Cool it,” he muttered to himself. “Don’t rush it. Seriously, the guy offered an inch, don’t snatch a mile. Don’t screw this up for yourself, stupid–”

“Oh my God.” Gojyo snapped from his own self-rebuke at a sharp laugh from nearby, and he spun to see Banri lolling against the side of the building behind him. He dropped his cigarette, then clenched his fist, as Banri dragged on his own cigarette and sneered at Gojyo. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You’re not just trying to get into his pants, you’re trying to make this a thing?”

“Get the fuck out of here.” Gojyo stomped on his cigarette where it smoldered on the sidewalk, then kicked it into the gutter. “I ain’t got shit to say to you.”

“No, no.” Banri stood between Gojyo and his door. “Look, I ain’t been waitin’ here twenty minutes for you to stroll your ass up just to walk away. I’m here as a friend, Gojyo, don’t you remember us being friends?” He reached into his pocket and held out an envelope. “Look, I brought some of the money back. Call it a gesture of good will, or a peace offering, whatever. Now can we just fucking talk?”

Gojyo clenched his fist, but the little spark of loyalty to Banri had left willed him one last chance. “Fine. Talk.”


	14. Ghosts We Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gojyo and Hakkai face something they had each wanted to leave behind.

**14: Ghosts We Know**

Banri’s money was green, even if it wasn’t as much as what he’d stolen all those months ago, but he even lit up a fresh cigarette for Gojyo, and asked, friendly as you please, “Business okay lately?”

“Busy,” Gojyo acknowledged with a shrug, and pocketed the money before taking the smoke. “But we’re handling it.”

“Guess it’d be stupid to ask you to deal me back in, huh?”

“Even I ain’t that dumb, and you know it.” Gojyo blew a smoke ring that hung in the air for a moment, and Banri heaved a sigh and propped himself against the brick.

“Yeah, I admit, when I saw you file the papers to write me out, and got served and shit, I was blown away. I figured I could walk back in any time when shit cleared up for me–”

“Is that your story now? Fuck, Banri. I don’t even wanna know why you left.”

“Had to,” Banri muttered, sounding cross. “But yeah, I was impressed you figured to do all that just to cut me out.”

“I had to protect myself. I’ve been kicked around enough, y'know?” Gojyo sighed and tossed his hair back, shaking it out as Banri looked him over. “But I’m doing fine. Would'a been fine without the money, too.”

“Then give it back.”

“Fuck off, you need me to get more lawyers involved with this shit? Only reason I couldn’t get it back before was ‘cause the business was half in your name, and the account was in the business’ name.” Gojyo clenched his fist again. “I wish you hadn’t had to screw me over with whatever scheme you were trying to pull. I’m trying to get my life right.”

“Jesus, Gojyo, what does that even mean?” Banri rolled his eyes. “What, white picket fence? Dog in the front yard? Two kids and a wife who fucks your best friend while you’re out at the bowling alley?”

“No.” Gojyo finished his cigarette. “Honest. I wanna live honest. I like fixing cars, 'cause finishing projects feels good and getting paid for it is even better. Even if it means I get messy, or if I have to work hard, at least I know it’s the right thing to do. I don’t wanna do dumb shit that’ll get me arrested if I push it too far.”

“Who’re you trying to impress? Your loser brother?” Gojyo scoffed, but Banri leaned in, waggling an eyebrow. “Or that prissy shit who dropped you off here.”

Gojyo tensed, because that one wasn't a question. “I told you, don’t talk shit about him.”

Banri, to Gojyo’s surprise, put his hands up. “Sorry. Still tryin’ to get over the thought of you goin’ for more than a one-night-stand.”

“I ain’t the person I used to be. I’m trying to be better.”

“Why?”

Gojyo’s ears burned hot. “'Cause I want to.”

“Gojyo, buddy.” Banri slung his arm over his shoulder. “You gotta be the one who decides what’s right for you. It can’t be that vague 'them’ so many people waste their lives chasing, society, even the movies or TV. You can’t tell me you’d rather not have things be a little easier, even if it means not doing things 'right.’” Gojyo scoffed, but Banri gripped his shoulder a little harder. “Come on, man. Does that guy know what you used to be like?”

Gojyo broke away from Banri and put his finger in his face. “I ain’t like that anymore. I’m done with that. Look, I don’t know what you’re here for, but–”

“I want back in on the business, but you said no already.” Banri crossed his arms. “So, if you want me to leave, I’ll leave, but seriously. Gojyo.” He raised an eyebrow. “That guy? Hakkai? He ain’t like you or me. Look at him, not just that pretty face or pert little ass. He’s got class and raising. He’s probably had life handed to him on a silver spoon, didn’t have to do more than grab hold and move forward to get it. He’s surrounded by _them_ , people who know more, were given more, the people who decide what’s right, and you know how they look at guys like us, guys who make their own damn way.” Banri sighed with disgust. “You’re the one worried about screwing it up, for what? For being yourself? Jesus, kid, one'a these days, he’s gonna realize that you and him are on different levels, that you just ain’t good enough for him, and he’s gonna crush your heart.”

Gojyo was reminded of the raised eyebrows and quiet laughter from the night before. He tried not to think of Hakkai’s scrutiny. He closed his eyes and dropped his cigarette. “I gotta open the shop. Clear out, I got work to do.”

Banri studied Gojyo for a minute, stonefaced, then stubbed his cigarette out on the wall and shrugged. “I gotcha. Fine. Just remember, I’m looking out for ya.” He tucked a hand into his pocket and strolled away, leaving Gojyo feeling like he’d just yanked the thread out of his jacket.

Still, he had it in his head that he was going to do what was right. He just had to work a little harder to pick his feet up and walk to the front door of the garage.

If he worked hard, Hakkai would like that, wouldn’t he? Nothing to be snickered at there. Nothing wrong with that. There was nothing wrong.

“Don’t screw this up for yourself, stupid.”

* * *

Hakkai couldn’t resist the urge to drive back to the bakery once he’d gotten his first few morning tasks done. Sanzo rolled his eyes at him as he came in through the front door and strolled past the customers to the counter. “It has been less than twelve hours. Go home and sleep.”

“I intend on taking a short nap later today.” Hakkai shrugged Sanzo’s concerns off. “I don’t want to sleep too much; it’ll ruin my rhythm.”

Sanzo grunted his disgust, but poured Hakkai a cup of coffee and passed him a few creamers. “I did what you asked and told the morning crew to try stuff.”

“I had assumed you would.” Hakkai added the creamer and a sugar, swirled the coffee in his hand, then took a gulp. “The results of which were…?”

“General agreement with the night crew’s assessment. We’ll start rollout next week. You gonna get the formulas together?”

“Yes, once the tasks are done tomorrow.” Hakkai took another sip of his coffee. “Ah, and have you done any research on seasonal coffees?”

Sanzo scoffed again and planted his hands on his hips. “I ordered the biggest fucking jug of pumpkin-flavored sweetener they offered. Seasonal coffee, done.”

“Really, Sanzo, pumpkin spice isn’t the end-all, be-all–”

“I’ve had six college-aged women come in asking for the PSL since we opened.”

“Perhaps we should have a second container of the sweetener on hand just in case. Rush order?”

“Naturally. Now, will you get out of here? It’s your goddamned day off.” Sanzo crossed his arms.

“Hmm.” Hakkai took another sip of his coffee and gave Sanzo a contemplative look. “I had one further question.” Sanzo’s nostrils flared, and he raised an eyebrow. “Did Sharak express her opinion of Gojyo to you?”

Sanzo’s brow lowered, his expression flat and even. “You’re really doing this.”

“I am.”

Sanzo scowled at him for a minute, as if giving him a chance to think about what he was doing, then muttered, “She did. She said he was an idiot, but he seemed nice enough. She didn’t think he was your type.”

“Sharak seemed to struggle to figure out what my type was, when she was trying to find me dates.”

“Mm.” Sanzo grimaced. “She thought to introduce you to people like you. Well-read, or educated. Older, or at least more mature–”

Hakkai’s chin drooped towards his cup. “Looking at my past to predict my future, I suppose.” Sanzo’s mouth shut, and Hakkai finished his coffee. “I don’t know that I have a type, to be honest. I don’t care about gender, and looks aren’t particularly important, despite my preference for long hair, and I wasn’t even looking when he came into my view. Perhaps I’d just never met someone quite so unhesitant with his kindness, whether or not he meant to do it, and looked closer.” He paused, pursing his lips. “Perhaps if she looked closer…”

“She doesn’t dislike him. That’s all you need out of her. What should matter is what you think of him.” Sanzo leaned over the counter. “So, what do you think of him?”

Hakkai put his hand on his cheek, feeling the blood rush there chased by a silly smile. “I suppose… it’d be fair to say, I think I’ve f–”

The shop bell chimed, the door swung open, a gust of autumn chill ran past the tables, and Hakkai felt his stomach freeze as Nii walked in.

He hadn’t seen him in years, and it hadn’t been nearly long enough. He’d cut his hair short, he wore a little more stubble, but his face was the very same, a crescent moon smirk under shiny rectangular glasses. Hakkai felt Sanzo suck in a sharp breath at his side, but steeled himself, pasted a firm smile on his face, and ignored the way Nii’s face lit up as he approached the counter.

“What a funny coincidence. One of my students told me about a delightful new bakery, and it so happens that one of the most delightful people I know is here.”

“I’m not interested in your flattery, Nii.” Hakkai folded his arms behind his back. “As much as I appreciate your patronage, we have nothing we can serve you. Please leave.“

Nii knit his eyebrows up. "Just like that? It’s been this long, and that’s all you have to say to me?”

“I said everything I had to say to you three years ago. None of what I said has changed. I have no further interest in maintaining contact with you.” Hakkai’s shoulders were tense, but he drew his smile taut. “As I stated, I have nothing I can sell you.”

“Hakkai, please.” Nii was trying to sound sincere, but only succeeding in smug self-assurance. “Hasn’t it been long enough that we can converse like adults?”

Hakkai balled his hands into fists. “As if our prior conversations have not been those of adults.”

Nii paused, then smirked. “Perhaps you are acting childish. But I apologize.” He slouched, making Hakkai’s height advantage more apparent, or maybe he was just leaning closer. “I’ve missed you, you know.”

“I’ve missed you, as well.” Hakkai sighed fondly. “I have an old portrait of you on my mantle, and I flick used tissues at it when my mood is foul. I should mention, of course, that my aim is getting better.”

Sanzo made a strange noise but turned away, arms crossed tight, as Nii chuckled and shook his head. “Classy, as ever.” He sighed, folding his arms. “I have to admit, I’ve been worried. I heard a rumor that you had found someone new, someone, er, different. I heard you were in legal trouble.”

“Have you?” The snap in Hakkai’s voice was like the crackle of tinder underfoot. “There is no veracity in that. I am fine, and my current status is none of your business anyway.”

Nii just shook his head again. “You and I were a couple for long enough, I can’t simply shut off my concern for you.”

“A pity. Unlike you, I have shut off every emotion I have for you. That’s the way it is, and how it must be. I’m not interested in speaking with you any further.”

Nii frowned, his lips coming to a flat line. “Every emotion?” Hakkai realized he’d stopped smiling, but he didn’t bother to force his neutrality back into place. It had melted off like an ice sculpture, revealing the cold wall he tried to put forth underneath, and Nii was shaking his head one more time. “Hakkai, please. I had hoped to come across you much sooner. Even if you think there’s nothing left to say, I had hoped for a conversation. Just to talk to you again. Even with this…” His face pinched, and he gesticulated before spitting the words out: “New _person_ , new whoever or whatever, I feel like we both discarded an opportunity when you ended our relationship and I agreed to step back.”

“And yet you stand before me, though I asked you not to have any further contact and you agreed.”

“Happenstance.”

Sanzo cut in: “Liar.” He had been biting his tongue, trying to stay out of it, and Hakkai had felt him grinding his teeth at his back. “You came here with a purpose. You have been asked to leave. This is harassment. Leave, or I will call the police.”

“On your own brother?” Nii put a hand on his chest, his expression imitating polite shock belied by his shoddy posture. “You’re as cold as he’s pretending to be.”

“No, we simply do not want you in our establishment.” Hakkai set his shoulders back, trying to draw himself up. Somehow, Nii always made him feel small. Maybe it was those black pits of his eyes, but trying to stand up to him made him feel as if he were arguing with a statue of a god. “I’ve asked you to leave. I can’t make myself clearer.”

“Do you really fault me for worrying, Hakkai?” Nii was focused on him now, breaking through his every attempt to force him back with a laser pinprick gaze. “You gave up your doctorate, consigned yourself to a life in customer service, and then I hear about you becoming romantically involved with a criminal, I only want to know if you’re doing alright.”

“He’s not a criminal,” Hakkai hissed, and suddenly he understood Gojyo’s vehemence at the insults he’d received from Banri. “Gojyo is – none of your business.”

“You haven’t reassured me.” Nii’s voice was soft, but his expression hard. “Gojyo, is it? Hakkai, even if we are divided, my concern for your welfare will not wane. I have only ever wanted what’s best for you. I can’t stand the thought of you throwing your life away for some nobody who’s not worth the carbon he’s made of, let alone a moment of your precious time–”

Hakkai flung his fist to his side, his fingernails cutting into the flesh of his palm. “You will not talk about him like that. I asked you to leave, so–”

Nii took out his wallet. “I’m a paying customer.” He showed Sanzo a few bills. “One of the almond-coconut muffins, please.”

Sanzo bared his teeth. “I’m not–” Before he could say another word, Hakkai held a hand up.

“Sanzo. We said we would treat customers better. You assured me you would make an effort. If he’s a paying customer, we will give him what he’s requesting.” He glanced back to Sanzo, his expression betraying nothing. “The customer is always right, yes?”

Sanzo studied Hakkai for a second, then his eyebrows raised, and he nodded. “Fine.” He retrieved the muffin and put it in a paper bag, but Nii accepted it and took a bite while Sanzo made his change. Hakkai waited for him to swallow.

“Your transaction is complete,” he said softly. “I will ask you to leave, as we have other customers to serve.”

“I’ve missed your cooking.” Nii dabbed the crumbs from his mouth and sighed, throwing Hakkai an insolent wink. “I’ll leave if that’s really what you wish. I merely posit a question, Hakkai: Do you tell me you feel nothing because you truly feel nothing, or are you merely repeating it until it becomes true?”

Hakkai, too, sighed. “It’s a shame; you never did listen to me when I spoke, did you? Kindly vacate the premises.”

Nii shrugged, but nodded to Sanzo. “Do say hello to that young man you’re seeing for me.” He smirked, then turned and left. The customers who’d watched the exchange with fascination flooded to the counter in his wake, but Sanzo stifled a snort and stepped aside to let Houmei take over.

“He’ll be sick as a dog in half an hour. You told him you couldn’t serve him anything.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Hakkai covered a weary smile with his palm. “He’ll pay for it later; he knows both you and I know of his ovoid allergy, we both know our kitchen isn't egg-free, and we both tried to stop him, but goodness…” He sighed it out, then stepped back. “I’m going to check something in the back before I go.”

“Whatever you like.” Sanzo turned to help serve the customers as if nothing had happened, not noticing Hakkai’s expression crumble away as he passed him and fled into the kitchen. The other bakers didn’t notice him run through either, not even the clack of the rear door shutting behind him.

He didn’t want to know what his face looked like, but he could feel the ache in his chest wringing him into knots. He slumped down against the back wall and yanked his cellphone from his pocket, and quickly found Gojyo’s number and dialed. He heard it ring back twice, then, “Hakkai?”

Relief rushed through him. “Oh, thank goodness.”

“Hey.” Gojyo sounded tired somehow, but it escaped him. “Something wrong?”

“No, no, I…” Hakkai shivered. “I needed to hear your voice.”

Gojyo was quiet on his end, then muttered, “I’m here, babe. Is there something you need me to say?”

“N-no, I just… I got an unfriendly reminder…” He swallowed a knot in his throat. “I needed someone who cares.”

Gojyo was quiet again, as if trying to parse Hakkai’s words. “Well, you got me. Uh, so, you wanna hear about the car I’m working on?”

“I would love to. Tell me all about it. I won’t even mind if you have to keep working.”

“It’s all good. I’ll stay on the line as long as I can.” Hakkai heard Gojyo set the phone down, then the rattle and clank of his toolbox on the concrete floor. “Right, so, uh, we got an engine making a clickin’ noise. Taking a look, you see that the timing belt’s a little messed up, so what we do…”

Hakkai didn’t know what anything Gojyo was saying meant, he didn’t know anything about cars more than how to drive one and the most basic maintenance, but listening to Gojyo’s voice, knowing he was there in arm’s reach, just close enough to wipe his misery away, that was what he needed. Reassurance. He cradled the phone to his ear as Gojyo spoke, and it was alright. Everything was alright.

Everything was going to be alright.


	15. Placid on the Surface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanzo takes in a peaceful fall day with a less-than-peaceful Goku.

**15: Placid on the Surface**

Toudai had told Sanzo that he’d made a point of going to New England in October, having heard that the foliage there was glorious beyond belief, like living fire on every branch. Sanzo was not nearly so well traveled – he could count the times he’d left California on his fingers – but he found no fault with the autumn here, the crepe-paper thin leaves crisp and bright in vermillion and red, the clear air and skies, the water in the park pond reflective of the perfect cerulean above like a mirror interrupted only by the subtle ripples of the occasional duck paddling serenely across its surface. Autumn was just as beautiful here, and if he wanted to enjoy the fall scenery, all he had to do was walk a few blocks to the park, and so he would.

He just rarely did so with company.

“LOOKIT THE DUCKS!” A strident shout broke the stillness, and the ducks in the water squawked and flapped their wings, rushing across the water away from Goku at the water’s edge. A few other people meandering near the park gates turned to look, and Sanzo groaned and bit back his tongue and frustration as he followed Goku in. Goku had run up to the fence around the pond, eagerly pointing at the waterfowl as if Sanzo might have never seen one before. Sanzo heaved a sigh and smoothed down his fall jacket as he followed Goku down the hill, as Goku stepped up onto the first post and leaned over the top, clicking his tongue at the birds as they scattered away from him. “Lookit, Sanzo, they’re so happy!”

“They’d be happier if you were quiet!” Sanzo yanked him back by his collar and cuffed him across the top of his head. Honestly, how did someone as impulsive as him tick? Hell, what had possessed him to invite Goku along on his peaceful excursion, anyway? “Don’t shout, you’ll scare them.”

“Ahh, sorry!” Goku laughed and rubbed his scalp, messing his hair up. “I just – I like animals, y'know? I thought you brought me here to see ‘em.”

Sanzo raised an eyebrow, faintly hearing whispering and chuckling behind him. He had anticipated Goku would enjoy seeing the ducks – his enthusiasm was just a little predictable – but that wasn’t the only reason he’d brought the monkeywrench out. “I wanted to take a walk. I thought you might like to come along.”

“Oh, well, uh…” Goku rubbed the back of his head. “That’s good too! You mean, like, a hike?”

Sanzo grimaced, because his loafers were not meant for hiking. “There are no trails here. Just the path through the park.”

“Oh.” Goku scratched his head, then grinned. “Well, that’s fine, too! You wanna walk around and see the leaves and stuff?”

Finally, he got it. “Sure, whatever.” Sanzo tugged his sleeve and escorted him back up the hill towards the main path, and Goku took his hand tight in his. Sanzo frowned, his instincts saying to shake him off, but Goku’s smile telling him to hold tight, and how very happy he was to even be here.

Sanzo knew the path that circled the park like the back of his hand. There as a wide, pebbled path for dog walkers and people out for a stroll, and a narrow paved road for bikers. The paths wound through copses of trees and raised flowerbeds, past the pond and pagodas for picnics or parties, splitting like deltas in a stream but all circling back to the front gates. Sanzo would often quietly walk a few circuits just for the sake of getting fresh air, maybe find a bench where he could sit and read his newspaper, or pass by the vendors near the front for a tea or coffee.

Goku didn’t seem especially inclined to such quiet activity. Instead, not fifty yards in, he pointed out one of the trees. “Wow, that one’s really pretty!” He tugged Sanzo’s sleeve. “Do you know what kind of tree it is?”

Sanzo scowled, but looked at the tree. It wasn’t especially tall, but the leaves were broad and caught the sunlight. He scoffed. “How am I supposed to know? It’s a tree.”

Goku made a disappointed noise, then got his phone out. He didn’t let go of Sanzo’s hand as he typed, though Sanzo grimaced. After a minute, Goku grinned. “It’s a Douglas Maple.” He showed Sanzo a picture, one that matched the tree. Sanzo raised an eyebrow, but nodded.

“Looks like it.”

This prompted Goku to start searching out and identifying every tree they passed, showing Sanzo pictures to confirm each one. “That’s a dogwood – that one’s a Japanese dogwood – oh, I know those, those are cedars!”

Sanzo was about to tell him to shut up, put his phone away, and enjoy the trees, except he realized he was actually looking at the trees as Goku named them. Goku yanked his sleeve again, pointing, “See, you can tell those are vine maples 'cause the leaves have seven points, instead of the usual five. I think the ones with the biggest leaves are best! The trees look so full and fluffy!”

Sanzo nodded, apprising the trees for himself. He could somewhat understand, especially with Goku running off at the mouth about it. Each brilliant tree was its own kind of flame, broken only with bursts of evergreen cedar and fir, a vibrant, vivacious display of its true colors before all was swallowed by winter chill. “Yeah.” Then, he took his hand away from Goku. “Don’t pull on me so much.”

Goku looked taken aback for a moment, but tucked his hands in his pockets with his phone. “Sorry.” He hung his head a little, like a kicked puppy, but after a moment, looked back around at Sanzo. “Um, how’s work been?”

Sanzo sniffed and shrugged. “Busy. Hakkai’s pumpkin and apple concoctions are a hit. He can’t make those pumpkin hand pies with the jack-o-lantern faces fast enough, we sell out every day.”

“How 'bout your dads’ place?”

“We’ve had some sales. Father usually insists on keeping some modern knick-knacks amongst the treasures, they keep the lights on at home. The good things sell very slowly.”

Goku nodded, mulling something over. “Ah. Um, and how’s Mr. Toudai been?”

Sanzo scowled. “What are you getting at?”

“Oh! Um.” Goku halted in place and fidgeted, and Sanzo pivoted to face him, crossing his arms. “Well, just, that’s what you’re supposed to do on dates, right? Or with friends. Ask 'em about stuff you wanna know, or things about their lives. It’s important. I like Mr. Toudai and Hakkai, and I know that they’re important to you, so I wanna know what’s going on with everyone.”

Sanzo drew his mouth tight. “It’s not important.”

“It’s important to me, anyway.” Goku put his hands back in his jacket pockets, squeezing them into balled fists. “But if you don’t want to tell me about Mr. Toudai, that’s okay.”

Sanzo remained still for a moment, thinking, then muttered, “Nothing’s changed. He’s doing alright. No worse, anyway.” Then, he swallowed and broke eye contact. “There’s some snacks ahead. I’ll get you anything you want.”

This brightened Goku’s expression. “That sounds great!” Sanzo turned to walk again, and Goku scampered along at his heels.

Sanzo braced himself as Goku bounded along behind him, but strung the words together: “How about you? Work? School?”

“Work’s been okay.” Goku scrunched his nose. “Gojyo’s been kinda funny lately. He always looks tired, and even when Hakkai drops in to visit, he’s kinda quiet. I hope he’s not getting sick, y'know?” Then, he grinned. “Oh, but he still taught me a bunch'a new stuff about replacing engine blocks! He’s really smooth about it, all the videos in class are all like, CLANG-CLANG-CLANG–” A few birds dislodged themselves from a nearby tree (a dogwood, if Sanzo recalled Goku’s identification) and darted away at the clamor – “But Gojyo, no way, he’s all smooth and careful. He says that way too many parts get damaged in the shop, and you gotta be careful or customers’ll have to come back to get stuff fixed again, or they’ll go somewhere else to get it fixed again and won't come back to you.”

“I see.” Sanzo frowned, hardly noticing that Goku had looped his elbow with his. “And school?”

“I’ve got pretty solid B’s across the board after midterms.” Goku held his head up, all smug and exceedingly proud. “Finals are coming up, but I’m not too scared. I’ll start studying in the next few weeks. After that, it’s just Gojyo’s evaluations, and then one more semester apprenticing full time, and I’ll have my certificate! Pretty cool, right?”

“It sounds good,” Sanzo agreed in a low rumble. “What are you taking?”

“Eh, school-school, there’s Gen Ed. stuff, a math class, a business class, and a lit class, plus one apprenticeship-specific class, which is mostly based on my work with Gojyo. Most of my credit hours are based on the apprentice work. I’m at Gojyo’s thirty hours a week, you know?”

“That sounds like a lot for being in school.”

“The minimum’s twenty, but Gojyo said he’d give me thirty if I wanted it. He’s paying me, so I had to go for it.” Goku grinned. “It’s pretty busy, especially when I have projects or homework, but I’m okay with it!”

“Hmph. You’ll exhaust yourself.” Sanzo unlaced his arm from Goku’s, but pointed at a concession stand ahead on the path. “There. Anything you want.”

Goku gasped and bolted ahead, and Sanzo stood back to smoke a cigarette. Goku glanced back at him a few times, but Sanzo tried to ignore it. He was too focused on the end of his cigarette and the burning feeling in his head. He hadn’t been sure of what to expect when he took Goku out like this, but it hadn’t been this. He stomped the cigarette out when it was done, and found Goku with two warm cups and his usual, dorky smile.

“I got you a coffee. Black, right?”

Sanzo sniffed as he dug for his wallet. “I see you pay attention.”

“It’s not like it’s hard to remember.” Goku chuckled and took a sip of his drink – Sanzo smelled apples and earthy toasted cinnamon. “You take it black, Gojyo kinda switches it up depending on his mood, but usually black with chocolate or iced with milk, Nataku only drinks decaf and only after midnight, and I only like coffee with lots of milk, sugar, chocolate, and whipped cream.” He grinned and took another sip. “But they don’t have that here. They do have cider, which is awesome.”

“Mm.” Sanzo took his change from the attendant and waved Goku over to a nearby bench overlooking a roundabout where the bike path met the sidewalk, circling around an enclosed meadow of wildflowers. Goku plopped down, swinging his feet, as Sanzo dusted the bench first before sitting. They enjoyed their beverages quietly for a moment, until Sanzo lifted his eyes to watch Goku’s face. “What do you normally do for dates?”

“Me? Jeez.” Goku bit his lip. “Uh, I like going to the arcade, or bowling, or to the movies, or out to eat, or… well, anywhere!” He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “I’m gonna be honest: I’ve never really dated before.” Sanzo raised an eyebrow. “No, really! You’re the first person who’s ever asked! I think a lot of people are cute, but I don’t go for it 'cause I get all nervous and tongue-tied and stupid. So, anywhere you wanna take me is fine. What about you? What do you like to do?”

Sanzo chafed under that scrutinizing, inquisitve stare, and turned away before muttering, “I don’t know.”

Goku cocked his head. “Huh?”

“Don’t 'huh’ me.” Sanzo crossed his arms and put his shoulders into the back of the bench. “I’ve never dated before either. I don’t know how or what I’m doing.”

Goku bit his lip as Sanzo tightened up. “Not once? You never even asked someone before me?”

Sanzo pursed his lips, then leaned forward. “There was one person. Someone I knew in school. I took him ice skating.”

“That sounds like a lot of fun!” Goku swung his feet a few more times, then stopped. “Guess it didn’t work out, huh?”

“We were only friends at the time.” Sanzo turned his face away, his arms closing even tighter. “I had been interested in him for a while, but he never reciprocated. We had fun when I asked him out, and I thought I’d made progress. Then…”

Goku remembered something. “Nii snatched him up, huh?” Sanzo didn’t answer him, and that was probably answer enough. “Jeez, what a jerk. Well, um, I’m sorry.”

“Hmph.” Sanzo shook his head. “You learn quickly enough not to hold on too tight to anything. It gets taken away so damn easily.”

“Huh.” Goku seemed puzzled, rubbing his chin. “I guess, if that’s how you want to look at it, that’s okay.”

Sanzo waited, because that didn’t sound like a complete sentence. However, Goku just pouted pensively and fidgeted with his cider cup, until Sanzo caved and prompted, “But?”

Goku chuckled a little, but didn’t look up. “But, well, if things are getting taken away like that, isn’t it best to enjoy them as much as you can, while you can?” He grinned with all of his teeth. “Like the changing leaves, or the ducks that are migrating. Enjoy them before they’re gone, before you’re gone!  That’s what I try to do. Eat 'til your stomach hurts, run 'til your legs break, laugh 'til your mouth goes numb, just, y'know, live while you can!” He beamed, but it felt like an epiphany to Sanzo.

No wonder Goku seemed so warm. He radiated life. There was a weird sort of Zen to him; even if he was reacting badly outwardly, expressing and emoting his disappointment, he had something very, very solid in his center. Something unshakable, as hard and heavy as the Earth’s core. Sanzo could only see how very opposite he was to his own composure, that of a lake: calm and still on the surface, hiding everything else underneath until it disturbed the mirror surface. He wondered if the world looked brighter to Goku because he was seeing a world that had to be enjoyed now, rather than one that was just going to vanish.

“Come on.” Sanzo threw his empty cup at the nearest trash can, and it bounced off the rim and tumbled in as Sanzo took Goku’s hand and got him to his feet. “There’s something I want to do.”

Goku held Sanzo’s hand tight, as if he’d slip away a little too soon, as they walked back towards the front of the park, the gates, and the duck pond. The ducks had resettled near the water’s edge, and Goku didn’t charge at them this time. However, Sanzo instead led him to a small row of vending machines filled with pellets and took out a few quarters. “It’s duck food, for pets or livestock. People kept bringing bread and dry corn, but that’s not actually good for them. Hold your hands out.” Sanzo put his quarters in, and a bunch of pellets fell into Goku’s cupped hands. “Go nuts.” Goku beamed with glee, and carefully walked over to the ducks with the pile of duck pellets balanced on his palms.

“Thanks, Sanzo!” He pinched some off the top, and the ducks all swam towards him as the pellets hit the water. He squealed a little as the ducks squabbled over the food, and as he threw more out, Sanzo leaned on the fence next to him. “They look so happy!”

“Mm.” Sanzo wasn’t paying attention to the ducks splashing and honking in the water, the sprays of greenish-blue water in the wake of their flapping wings or the stillness broken by the argument. The simple glee on Goku’s face held his attention, as straightforward and plain as a clear autumn sky. Goku chattered at the ducks, encouraging them, cheering them on, egging them on by throwing food different places, and finally ran out, dusted his hands, and waved goodbye as the ducks, still arguing, paddled away.

“That was fun!” He sighed, his voice airy and dreamy, and his face, when he turned to Sanzo, completely content. “Thanks, Sanzo! This was way nice of you, taking me out and stuff, and feeding the ducks with me.” His cheeks went a little pink, and Sanzo snorted.

“It’s like you said. They’re going to migrate soon. We should enjoy them while they’re here.”

“Yeah.” Goku nodded, then looped his arm into Sanzo’s again. “But they’ll be back, and we can be, too.” Sanzo let Goku stay hooked with him as they walked towards the gate. “And if you want, we can go ice skating when things freeze, and you can take me to dinner or bowling, and we can do anything you want. It’s just fun to be with you, y'know?”

“Mhm.” Sanzo didn’t want to release Goku’s arm, but he pulled away as he got to the gates.

“But I probably ought'a go. I got homework.” Goku took a hesitant step backwards, as if he didn’t want to turn away from Sanzo. “Text me, okay? I’ll see you again soon!” He bounced back in, planted a kiss on Sanzo’s cheek, then backed away again, grinning as he spun on his heel. “Thanks!” He blew him another kiss over his shoulder and bolted for the bus stop. Sanzo watched him leave, aware only of that lingering warmth from his hand.

Fall would last a little longer. Maybe they could come back and enjoy what was there a little longer, at least until things changed again. “Live while you can,” he remarked to himself, and turned for home with a few fallen leaves rustling on the sidewalk behind him.


	16. Food is Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hakkai finds out that it’s a day to be celebrated, and shows his appreciation for Gojyo the best way he knows how.

**16: Food is Love**

It was a typical November morning, or what a typical November morning was coming to be. Goku was perched on the stool at the counter, checking inventory and watching the clock and door for Lirin, and Gojyo was hard at work under a car and had been since before Goku had gotten there. Goku found himself looking back at him now and then, watching him as he worked diligently and silently. Yeah, that was a little weird. Something had been off about Gojyo for the last couple weeks, and he couldn’t place what.

He tried asking outright, but Gojyo had smiled to himself, pushed his hair from his face, then mussed Goku’s part. “Don’t worry about it, monkeywrench; you’ll just hurt yourself trying to think that hard.” Goku had snapped back at him, and that led to them tussling on the shop floor, and Gojyo had been himself again for all of thirty seconds, but it hadn’t fixed whatever had him down. His blank smile was cold and meaningless, and that was nothing like the Gojyo he’d come to know.

Gojyo was right about one thing: trying to figure Gojyo out was giving him a headache. “Stupid dumbass redheads,” he muttered, and tried to return his focus to the inventory spreadsheet. Before long, though, the bell over the door jingled, and another convenient idiot redhead bounded in.

“Gojyo!” Lirin, wearing a frilly skirt and too many bangles for someone who worked around cars, chewing gum, and shouting at the top of her lungs, always grated on Goku just a little. When they’d met, she’d been cute for all of ten seconds, until she started talking, teasing his hair and poking his chest, and Goku quickly realized that her wide mouth rarely shut and she had little sense of personal space. He might have been able to find the cute in anybody, but he was just as good at figuring out why they wouldn’t be a good match, too. For now, though, she marched past Goku and leaned into the shop. “Hey, Gojyo! C'mere!”

“What is it?” Goku heard Gojyo’s scooter roll out, and Lirin beamed as he strode across the shop to join them.

“My big brother and your big brother and big sis Yaone want to know what you want for your birthday.”

Goku whipped around in surprise, because this was the first he was hearing of anything like that. Gojyo, for his part, looked annoyed.

“I told Yaone I don’t want anything.”

“No, no, no!” Lirin stomped her foot. “They said I had to find out what you wanted, and Jien said I wasn’t allowed to come home until I did, so tell me what you want!”

Goku cut in. “Hey, when is his birthday? I didn’t know it was his birthday soon!”

“Goku, no–”

Lirin cut Gojyo off. “It’s the 9th. Three days, and he hasn't told his big bro what he wants!”

Goku checked the calendar. There were no marks on it, Gojyo hadn’t even made a note to close the shop early. “That’s awesome!”

Gojyo rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Look, I ain’t celebrated my birthday for a while. I ain’t some six-year-old looking for cupcakes.”

“Yeah, well, Kou and Jien and Yaone say they wanna do something!” Lirin put her hands on her hips. “So tell me what it is!”

“I just said, brat. Nothing.” Gojyo folded his arms, his shoulders slumping. “Zip. Zero. Nada. I’ll call him or something.”

“Jien said he wanted to take you to a fancy steak place! Steak!” Lirin threw her hands up. “He said he’d take the prettyboy in Yaone’s photo too, if you want–”

The idea hit Goku like a wrench to the face, and he hopped up from his stool. “Hey, um, if you guys are gonna stand around and argue, I’m gonna go get some coffee. Gojyo, you want anything?”

Gojyo made a face, but smiled wearily at Goku. “Sure, go ahead and ask for the Gojyo special.”

Lirin snapped her fingers at Goku. “Extra large pumpkin spice latte, extra pumpkin, extra sugar, and double whipped cream.”

Goku sniffed, but trudged for the door. “You gotta pay me back for that, Lirin.”

“Whatever!”

Goku pretended to be put out until he reached the door and closed it behind him, then bolted down the block. He burst through the bakery door and bolted to the counter, where Sanzo was waiting with his newspaper open in hand. He pretended not to see Goku for a second, then looked over the edge at him where he stood huffing and puffing for breath. “Can I help you?”

The words came out past his broad smile in an eager rush: “Need'a talk to Hakkai! Is Hakkai busy?”

Sanzo sneered. “If your boss wants free coffee, I’ll get it. I know Hakkai reimburses it.”

“Not that! Not that! Super important! Need to tell him!” Goku wiped his brow, ignoring the customers who were watching him and giggling, and Sanzo heaved a mournful, disgusted sigh like one about to sacrifice his firstborn and dragged himself to the kitchen door.

“Hakkai, you got a minute?”

Hakkai emerged from the kitchen a moment later, dusting his hands. “Goku, it’s a pleasure, as always. Did I hear you say it was something important?”

“Gojyo’s birthday is in three days and he says he’s not celebrating!” Goku threw his hands out, as Hakkai’s brow raised in confusion and curiosity.

“Is it? He hadn’t mentioned it.”

“Lirin’s big brother has a thing with Gojyo’s big brother, so she’s trying to pester him for gift ideas, but Gojyo says he doesn’t want anything and to buzz off, but you’re his boyfriend, I knew you’d wanna do something!”

Hakkai’s curiosity turned to surprise. “I do, yes, of course.” He put a hand over his mouth. “I’m… he… he didn’t tell me.”

Goku wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, me neither, and it seems to be kind of a sore spot for him. I dunno what his deal is, but maybe you can surprise him!”

“Yes, that’s a good idea.” Hakkai laced his fingers and leaned over the counter. “What should I do? Any thoughts, Goku?”

“Oh, man.” Goku’s face lit up, eyes a-gleam, bouncing on his heels. “Take him to a fancy restaurant and buy him whatever he wants, then maybe go on a romantic boat ride, then fly him to Hawaii for a surprise vacation, and–”

“Or,” Sanzo interrupted. “Something low-key.” He scowled at Goku for a moment, then held Hakkai’s gaze. “If he’s uncomfortable with celebrating, maybe you shouldn’t celebrate. Give him a brownie and a kiss on the cheek and that'll cancel out whatever guilt you’d feel at not doing anything.”

“But he’s gotta do something!” Goku protested. “I dunno! Tickets to a baseball game – I think he watches baseball sometimes – or take him to a concert, or – I dunno, something!”

“That all sounds wonderful, Goku, but Sanzo has a point.” Hakkai rubbed his mouth with his palm, thinking. Goku snorted.

“Yeah, but he’s been weird lately! Haven’t you noticed?”

“I have, yes. He has been a bit quiet. It is somewhat disconcerting, to be frank.” Hakkai sighed, his face falling. “But I want to celebrate him nonetheless. After all, I am very happy he was born. I wouldn’t mind doing a little more than just giving him a birthday cake or the like, but something… I don’t know…” He trailed off, but Goku cocked his head.

“Maybe something personal?”

“Something private,” Sanzo suggested, quiet, cautious, and giving Hakkai a firm but not unkind expression. “Just take him home for a nice dinner or something. He doesn’t need extravagance, not if it’s coming from you. He might have a very good reason for not wanting to celebrate, and you should respect that.”

“You’re right.”

Goku grumbled and put his hands on his hips. “But you gotta do something really special for him!”

“You are also right, Goku.” He granted him a smile. “Don’t tell him we talked. I’ll take it from here, and thank you for tipping me off.” Then, he turned to the wall of pastries and selected a cinnamon roll. “For you, along with coffee for yourself and Gojyo. Whatever he wants, Sanzo.”

“Yeah, except for Lirin’s stupid girl drink.” Goku took a big bite out of the cinnamon roll and began to detail the order (flakes and frosting escaping with every word), and Hakkai returned to the kitchen, a frown creasing his features.

Goku had been right. Gojyo had been quiet for a few weeks now; still answering phone calls and messages, still accepting the breakfast Hakkai would bring him, still coming for meals when offered, but his enthusiasm had seemed to wane, his back hunched, his eye contact lessened. Sometimes, he’d be talking, and he’d stop and restart his sentence, like he was erasing something. It worried Hakkai, especially because he’d pinpointed that this odd behavior had started the night after they shared a bed. Chastely, yes, but that was what had happened. Had he done something wrong? Had he inadvertently said or done something that had put a damper on their relationship?

Whatever it was, he would resolve it, of that he was determined. Celebrating his special someone would, if nothing else, be a good start.

* * *

Working hard was good. That was something good people did. Worthwhile people. So, he would work from dawn until dusk.

He tried to be good for Hakkai. He would try not to make dirty jokes or look at him with lust in his eyes, because he wanted Hakkai to think he was good.

Maybe he was letting Banri get to him. Maybe he was being stupid. But damn it all, he couldn’t fuck up now. Not when things were finally getting good.

“Fuck.” He braced against a cold wind, then glared down the end of his cigarette as the cherry dimmed. The sun was going down earlier every day, and taking in that last cigarette for the night was a chillier proposal every time. Still, he’d worked his day, from before dawn until past dusk, he’d earned his goddamned smoke. Usually, it wouldn’t be so hard to wait until he got away from the cars, but today, he needed that nicotine hit more than ever. Maybe it was because he was trying so hard to be better that it had stressed him out.

Nah, more likely, it was because of the date on the screen of his phone. Somehow or other – likely the phone company when he signed up – his phone was set to display a birthday cake on the home page, with a “Happy Birthday!” message scrolling across the bottom. Every time he looked at it, he got a little angry. His birthday wasn’t exactly a good time for him. He couldn’t remember having any happy birthdays when he was a kid, and between leaving Jien’s house and today, it just hadn’t been celebrated. He almost didn’t want to be reminded. Stuff like cake, presents, and surprises, that was stuff he’d never gotten, why should he ask for it now? He was fine without it, and he sure as hell didn’t want to be reminded that he’d never had it before.

Just as he was putting his phone away, it rang, and Gojyo scooped it to his ear without looking at the number calling. “Hello, G’s Auto Repair.”

“Gojyo?”

Gojyo, for a moment, debated hanging up. He knew that voice, too well, and it wasn’t one he had been prepared for. Still, he braced himself and put on a smile, hoping he could put a little false cheer in his voice. “Hey, Jien. Been a while.”

Jien chuckled on the other end. “Yeah, it has. Uh, I just wanted to call and say happy birthday.” Jien paused, as Gojyo scrubbed his hand down his face. Those words, coming from him, felt like broken glass scraped across his face. “Look, I get you’d rather not think about it, but it’s because you didn’t get to celebrate before that I wanna celebrate now. You’re my only baby brother, and I love you.”

Gojyo groaned, then sucked in air and sighed. “I… I get it, okay?”

“I ain’t gonna guilt trip you for walling me out, but… it’s been a while since we talked. Do you think me and you could maybe meet up some time and, y’know, actually talk?”

“We’re talking now.”

“Face to face.” Jien sounded a little angry and a little sad, but Gojyo crossed his arms and rested his shoulders on the wall. “We won’t talk shop, if that’ll convince you. I just wanna know how you’re doing. Maybe hear about that guy in the picture Yaone showed me.”

“Yeah, uh, I asked her not to. You’re not supposed to know about him yet.” Gojyo sniffed and rested the phone on the crook of his shoulder so he wouldn’t have to hold it. “I get what you’re trying to do, but I ain’t ready to forgive you yet.”

Jien was quiet, then growled, “When? It’s been more than a year now.”

“Ain’t no timeframe. I’ll stop being pissed when I’m good and ready. I love you, bro, but I don’t feel like talking.”

Jien didn’t reply for a minute. Then, he sighed. “Fine. Happy birthday, and all. Maybe next year we can celebrate for real, together.”

“Maybe. Bye.” Gojyo hung up, then dug for another cigarette. Fuck it, he needed one.

He had just lit up when his phone went off again, and this time, he checked the number, only to see Hakkai’s photograph smiling from the screen. He didn’t even let it finish the first ring before picking it up. “Hey, babe.”

“Hello!” Hakkai sounded as happy as ever to hear from him, and it put a bellows to the embers in Gojyo’s chest. “I know this seems a bit sudden, but did you have any plans for tonight? I’m testing a new recipe at home, I would love for someone to come and try it with me.”

There was a little voice in Gojyo’s head that told him this invitation wasn’t entirely random. There was a much louder one that didn’t care. “Sure thing, babe, I’m just closing up now. Let me change my shirt, and I’ll be right over. L–”

And he stopped himself. He couldn’t let those stupid impulsive words escape, couldn’t give Hakkai a chance to tell him “no.” Not yet. Maybe, when he was good enough, he’d deserve it.

“See ya soon. Bye.”

Be good, he reminded himself. Show them, prove it. “Don’t fuck it up, Gojyo.” He put his hand on his forehead, then ran his palm over his cheek. He could still feel a pair of faded scars there, and grimaced. “Just don’t fuck it up.”

* * *

Hakkai had clearly been waiting for him at the door, and took his coat and kissed him on the cheek when he let him in. The house was as warm, cozy, and inviting as ever. “Come in, make yourself comfortable. How are you?”

“M'fine.” Gojyo shrugged his jacket off, and Hakkai took it and hung it up. Every time Gojyo passed through the front door, the atmosphere washed over him and tried to take his tension and worries with it. Tonight, the house smelled of green, of fresh arugula and green onion, and the distinct aroma of lemon-roasted chicken. “We’ve been staying busy, y'know? Smells like you have, too.” He put on a broad grin and knelt to untie his shoes. He could feel Hakkai’s gaze on his back like a feather tracing his spine, but smiled up at him once he’d put his shoes on the doormat. Hakkai hadn’t bothered to pretend he wasn’t watching him. “Is somethin’ wrong?”

Hakkai studied him, arms crossed. “I suppose I’m a bit concerned. You haven’t been yourself lately.”

Gojyo’s face went cold as he rose. “Uh. Sorry. I’ve just been tired, y'know?”

“Is there anything I can do to refresh you? Help you rest a little better?” Hakkai took and squeezed Gojyo’s hand, subtly leading him into the house and closer to that glorious smell. Gojyo took in the smell, the comfortable scent of a clean, inviting room and the presence of his absolute favorite person, and shook his head.

“Hey, I’m here with you. That’s like six Christmases and a beach vacation, all at the same time.” He grinned, and he saw a spark of relief in Hakkai’s face.

“Good. I was, ah, a bit worried I’d done something wrong.” He released Gojyo’s hand as he entered the kitchen and pulled a pan from the oven, then opened the pot on top of the stove and scooped up a spoonful. “Here.” He held the spoon of something creamy, yellow and flecked with green, out to Gojyo. “Taste, please.”

Gojyo took the spoonful; the soft rice in its thick, creamy sauce melted on his tongue. “Mmmh.”

“More lemon? Pepper?”

“No.” Gojyo opened his mouth, grinning like a crocodile. “More in my face.”

Hakkai laughed and fed him another spoonful. “I’m glad you approve. It’s an adaptation of a risotto with asparagus and arugula, combining some French technique with Italian tradition. It’s an experiment.”

“Your experiments are the best.” Gojyo licked his lips, the warmth of the food lighting him up from the inside. “Is this what you had in mind?”

“Ah, no. I wanted to try a brownie recipe, but I was hoping we could make it together. Does…” Hakkai hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor beside his feet. “Does that sounds alright to you?”

Gojyo grinned, shaking his head in disbelief. “You gotta ask? That sounds awesome. Just you and me, in the kitchen together.”

Hakkai’s expression melted into something like hope. “Yes, I think I agree.”

Dinner was good – but then, that was par for the course for Hakkai. Sure beat whatever Gojyo would have made for himself. He helped clean the dishes, but as they finished, Hakkai started taking ingredients from the refrigerator. Flour on a plate, baking chocolate carved into rippled little ribbons, eggs, and two dishes of butter from the oven, melted to perfection. Hakkai winked at Gojyo when he raised an eyebrow at him. “If you melt it in the microwave, butter is liable to splatter and boil over very easily. If one has the time to melt it in the oven instead, that is my preferred option. Were you ready to cook? Would you like an apron to keep your clothes clean?”

Gojyo looked down at his shirt, and shrugged. “Yeah, sure.” Hakkai gestured to his pantry and a selection of aprons hanging on a peg, before taking one for himself. Gojyo picked a plain black one, as Hakkai selected one with a pattern of grape vines. However, as Gojyo tied his on, he saw Hakkai set his aside and pull his shirt up over his head. Gojyo stopped with his fingers awkwardly entangled in his apron strings to gape as Hakkai slid his shirt off, revealing his lean, pale chest. He winked at Gojyo, then folded his shirt and set it aside.

“I’d rather not get brownie batter on my shirt. Chocolate stains so easily.” He ran his palms down his sides, then unbuttoned his slacks and shimmied out of them with a wiggle of his hips. He folded his pants and shirt, as nonchalant as if they were fresh and warm from the dryer, but Gojyo felt heat under his collar, because Hakkai wore those European boxers that perfectly framed everything underneath. Then, Hakkai ran his thumbs into the waistband of his boxer shorts. “I suppose I shouldn’t let these get messy, either.” Gojyo knew he was gaping when Hakkai rolled his boxers down his toned thighs, folded them, and put them on the kitchen chair stacked on top of his clothes. Hakkai stood naked in front of him but for the apron, and he winked at Gojyo. “You can leave yours on, of course, I promise I’ll get any stray chocolate off of your clothes, but for me, I’d rather cook like this.”

Gojyo would have said something smooth and classy, but he found himself caught on the smooth curve of Hakkai’s buttocks and could only manage a hoarse, “Okay, yeah.” Hakkai chuckled, looking especially pleased.

“Come on over here and give me a hand, won’t you?”

Gojyo cautiously came closer like a tamer approaching a caged lion, drawn to the lines of Hakkai’s shoulder blades and back, as he set up a stand mixer. Gojyo vacantly watched as Hakkai cracked the eggs on the counter and put them into the mixer, then raised the bowl to meet the head. He glanced back to Gojyo, his vacant smile in place as if this were completely normal. Like he made breakfast in the buff every morning, and was completely accustomed to his guest ogling him. Hakkai, still as cool on the surface as glass, motioned for Gojyo to come closer. “Bring me the sugar, please. The yellow plate.” Gojyo realized that all the plates were different colors, as if Hakkai had known Gojyo might be a little too distracted to tell sugar from salt when the blood was rapidly leaving his brain, because Hakkai had turned his back to put the chocolate in the microwave, and damn, what a beautiful back it was. He took the yellow plate and edged closer, and Hakkai stepped back and turned the speed on the mixer down. “Pour it in, nice and slow. I’ll stop it to mix it a few times.” Gojyo’s gaze hit Hakkai’s naked collarbone for a moment, but he managed to catch his eyes and nod. He tried to tip the contents of the plate into the bowl, but Hakkai put his hand over his and gently, carefully eased his hand forward, letting a thin trickle spill in. Gojyo shivered at the gentle touch, and looked to Hakkai’s face to try and read his intentions. The corners of Hakkai’s eyes crinkled with mirth, his sweet smile betraying nothing but tender affection. Gojyo only hoped his body wouldn’t betray him too quickly, as Hakkai ran his palm down the line of his spine and turned the machine off.

“Always scrape the sides a few times when creaming eggs and sugar, so the sugar distributes evenly.” He ran a curved silicone spatula down the edges of the bowl, cleaning the stainless steel of all the goo, then raised the bowl and turned the mixer back on. “I’ll pour in the butter, keep adding the sugar, nice and slow.” He passed behind Gojyo to get the butter, but put a hand on his back as he came back as if to let him know, ‘I’m right here.’ Gojyo kept his eyes low, his legs tensing as Hakkai steadily poured the butter in on the other side of the bowl, his hand unshakable, unimaginably serene and powerfully confident in each motion.

“For cakes,” he explained, though Gojyo hadn’t asked – hadn’t dared to squeak out a single sound in the presence of a nearly-naked Hakkai than what was asked of him – “The butter is soft, but solid, and we cream it with the sugar until it’s fluffy before adding the eggs, one at a time. Brownies are much, much simpler; this is close to a muffin recipe, except we will add the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients instead of the other way around.”

Gojyo swallowed, his teeth nearly chattering, as Hakkai put his empty bowl down and turned the mixer off again. “There’s a difference, huh?”

“There is, yes.” Hakkai giggled as he ran the spatula along the inside of the bowl again, turning everything over. His muscles shifted under his creamy, smooth skin, and Gojyo felt his heart jump as he lifted the bowl out of the mixer and set it on the counter, because Hakkai actually had muscle under those sweaters and jackets he wore all day and Gojyo couldn’t take his eyes off of him. “I’ll explain, of course, some other time. We can’t let the butter cool too much before we fully mix this, or it won’t be pretty.” He motioned to something near Gojyo. “The chocolate, if you would.”

Gojyo found the bowl of melted chocolate and held it up for Hakkai, only to be rewarded with a pleasant smile. “Yes, here.” He passed Gojyo another spatula. “Scrape all of that into this bowl. I’ll mix as you do.”

Gojyo hoped he was aiming at the bowl as he poured, too interested in Hakkai’s limber arms as he stirred, fascinated by the flex of his chest muscles, the contrast of his fair skin with the dark apron and all of its green vines, and that confident smile. Shit, he wouldn’t have to worry about his pants feeling a little tight after eating all these brownies, his dick was doing a good enough job of making them uncomfortable now. “Very good.” He turned to the oven opened a drawer beneath it. “Let me fetch the pan, while you give that a few more good turns with the big spatula.” It took Gojyo a second to realize that was a direction, because Hakkai was bent over at the waist, that pert, perfect ass on full display, and he could almost feel Hakkai giggling wantonly to himself as Gojyo tried to root himself to the floor so he wouldn’t be completely blown away by the surprisingly sensual creature he had discovered under Hakkai’s clothes.

The mixture in the bowl was thick, wet, and the same rich brown as Hakkai’s hair. Hakkai peered in as Gojyo stirred it up. “Scrape the sides, okay?” He greased the pan with nonstick spray, then picked up the plate of flour and a coffee-can shaped sifter with a squeeze handle. “Fold this in as I sift it. Big motions, but not too many turns.”

Gojyo hoped he was following directions, scooping the spatula to the bottom and bringing everything to the top as Hakkai squeezed the handle with rapid-fire fingers and a steady, firm grip. That was hot. Scratch that. Everything about Hakkai was really, really hot right now. Not just that he was naked – though that was helping – but that he was so powerful in his element. It was like watching a flame dance carelessly through tinder. “You’re doing wonderfully,” Hakkai murmured as Gojyo turned the batter again, and Gojyo grinned to himself.

“You think?”

“Yes. What good, steady hands you have.” He caught Gojyo’s hand with his again, halting him from stirring. “That’s good. Do you like walnuts?”

“Uh-huh.”

This earned Gojyo a kiss on the cheek that lingered just a little longer than usual. “Convenient. I’ve already weighed them.”

As Hakkai retrieved a bowl of walnuts and poured them in, Gojyo muddled through his own dazed stupidity to ask, “Weigh?”

“Oh, yes. Things like flour and sugar can have different volume based on humidity, and walnuts or other large solids are difficult to measure due to shapes not conforming to a cup measure.” Hakkai gave the brownie batter a few good stirs. “For precision, I always weigh my ingredients.” Even his voice oozed confidence as he worked: “Baking is a science, a chemical reaction of heat, leaveners, structure-builders, binders, and liquids. Even a single element misused or misplaced can change the final product, and while there is a certain art to the presentation of a baked item, its composition must be just-so. Otherwise, the beauty won’t matter.” Hakkai winked, and asked with just the slightest undertone of temptation: “Do you understand?”

Art to the presentation. The words rolled around in Gojyo’s head as he failed again to tear his gaze from Hakkai’s slender shoulders and sculpted jaw. There was an art to this. Hakkai, so perfectly composed, each element in place, had made an effort to present himself to Gojyo like this, beautiful artwork, a perfect picture. He was more than good enough to eat. Gojyo finally found it in him to laugh. “I think I kinda do, but maybe you’ll have to tell me again later, yeah?” He put on what he hoped was a sultry smirk, and Hakkai giggled.

“Perhaps.” With that, Hakkai turned to the pan and poured the contents of the bowl out until the pan was very nearly full. Then, he popped the pan into the oven and set the oven timer for an hour. “And now, we wait.”

And then, Hakkai stilled, facing the oven, bowl still in hand. Gojyo heard him inhale, and he turned around, turning the spatula in the bowl again. “But there is one important thing we neglected.” He ran the spatula along the sides then held the brownie-batter covered side out to Gojyo, beaming. “Scraping the sides. Here, try some.”

Something seemed a little off all of a sudden – had Hakkai gotten nervous? – but Gojyo leaned in to take some batter off of the spatula nonetheless. Hakkai watched him take some on his fingers, and he licked his fingers clean. The batter was rich and sweet, thick and decadent, with low notes of chocolate singing on his tongue. “Mm, it’s really good. It’s super sweet, but it’s so good.”

“Ah.” Hakkai pulled some more batter off on his finger and held his hand out to Gojyo. “Perhaps you’d like a second taste?”

Oh. _Oh._ Gojyo had an idea what Hakkai was going for, and damn, did he like it. He swaggered close, took Hakkai’s hand, and licked his fingers clean, sucking the chocolate from his fingertips and slowly swallowing the sweet, cloying batter and savoring the salty flavor of Hakkai’s skin. Then, he held Hakkai’s gaze and licked his lips. “That’s even better.”

“May I try?” Hakkai ran the spatula around the bowl one more time and showed Gojyo the last of the batter. Gojyo grinned.

“Whatever you like.”

Just as Gojyo reached to take the batter, Hakkai’s hand darted forward and painted a line of brownie batter down Gojyo’s neck. “Ah. Oops.” There was almost no sincerity in that, nor in Hakkai’s mischievous little smile. “Let me get that for you.”

Hakkai put the bowl down on the counter, closed the last little bit of distance between him and Gojyo, and fastened his mouth on Gojyo’s neck. He kissed through the batter on Gojyo’s neck, licking it off through a trail of warm, wet kisses, then made his way up Gojyo’s jawline and to his mouth. Hakkai’s kisses tasted of chocolate now, but just as much as of Hakkai, beautiful Hakkai, and the deep, tender affection in him was more important than any sweet flavor Hakkai might present. Hakkai kissed back down his neck, though Gojyo was certain it was clean, then gripped Gojyo’s shoulders. His palms were shaking. Gojyo lowered his hands to Hakkai’s waist. “You okay, babe?”

“I…” His voice quavered, and his anxiety was as endearing as his confidence had been alluring. “I want to make love to you, Gojyo. May I?”

Gojyo responded with a kiss. “Babe, I’ve been waiting for you to ask.” He yanked his apron loose and dropped it on the chair, then scooped Hakkai up into his arms bridal-style. “You want me to take you to bed?”

Hakkai kissed Gojyo’s nose. “Please.”

Gojyo tried not to run up the stairs with Hakkai held to his chest, but when he laid Hakkai down on his bed, it was only to crash down on top of him, kissing his mouth and neck, pinning him. The moon was the only light, casting the pair of them in a shaft of stark white, and Hakkai, beautiful Hakkai, on full display only cranked the need Gojyo felt for him higher. Hakkai returned every kiss, even wrapping his leg up around Gojyo’s waist and hooking his arms around his neck. “You’ve been just waiting, haven’t ya, babe,” Gojyo muttered into his mouth, then tugged at his apron. “You want me to unwrap you?”

“It’s tied in the back – ah!” Hakkai gasped as Gojyo sucked on the pulse point in his neck and snaked his hands under him to get the bow loose. “Ah, you’ll leave a mark–”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Hakkai giggled, and Gojyo could feel his throat shake. “You don’t sound sorry anyway.”

Gojyo smiled into his skin. “Not really. Wouldn’t mind everyone seeing you’re mine, anyway.” He kissed the bruise he’d left a few times, then knelt up over Hakkai to let him take the apron off. “How you wanna do this?”

Hakkai’s eyes were black with lust and a little hazy. With his apron off, his erection was obvious, his dick hard and red and wet at the tip. “Hmm?”

“What’d'ya wanna do?” Gojyo stripped his shirt off, then unbuckled his belt and slid his pants down, revealing his full arousal. “See, I’m here all ready after watching your pretty ass saunter around that kitchen like you invented brownies, and I wanna know what you want.”

“Ah.” Hakkai ran his hand down his chest and stomach to his cock, and then wrapped his slender fingers around it. “I’ll be honest, I hadn’t planned that far ahead.”

“What do you like best?” Gojyo got himself in hand as well, then shifted his hips forward so he could wrap Hakkai’s dick in with his. Hakkai muffled a groan into sealed lips, moving his hand to give Gojyo full access, then managed a lusty little smile.

“You’ll find I’m not especially picky.” He hummed as Gojyo stroked both of them in his hand, and Gojyo took that to mean he liked that. Gojyo squeezed his dick against Hakkai between his fingers and palm and gave a few aggressive strokes, Hakkai’s satiny skin pulsing against his, his heartrate spiking, and Hakkai thrust against him as if his hips couldn’t help it. That gave Gojyo a clue.

“I like this and you like this,” he panted, and rested his thumb against Hakkai’s slit. “But you want more, something else, right? You want my ass?”

Hakkai gasped. “Gojyo.”

He grinned and gave Hakkai’s dick another stroke against his, eliciting another soft gasp. “See, uh, just between you and me, I kinda like that.” His face got hot, and he could only mumble the rest: “I like that more than anything else.” He let go of Hakkai and got on his knees, but wrapped his left hand around Hakkai again without letting him sit up. “You ever top a guy?”

Hakkai, his glasses askew, his face pink and damp, and his eyes feverish and bright, shook his head. “I’ve… with a woman… but never… Gojyo, you…”

“You’re gonna love this.” Gojyo grinned and ran his hand up and down Hakkai’s length again. “You got any lube, and can you get it without me letting go of you?”

Hakkai stretched an arm behind him to the bedside table, then grimaced. “Sorry. It’s in there.” Gojyo backed off and crawled over him to open the drawer to find the plastic pump bottle. He opened the lid, only to find the top clogged. Hakkai grunted uncomfortably. “Ah, sorry again. It’s, er, been a while.”

“S'fine.” Gojyo cleaned the top off and pumped a little lube onto his fingers, then gripped Hakkai in his other palm. “It’s been a while for me, too. Think you can be patient?”

“Yes, of course.” Hakkai sat up as Gojyo settled, and Gojyo grinned and rubbed his thumb up and down the length of Hakkai’s cock, then slid his slicked index finger up his thigh and into his entrance. There was resistance – damn, it _had_ been a while – but he slipped the tip of his finger in. Hakkai watched his face, his lust-glazed eyes affixed and his gaze unmoving, as Gojyo ran his fingertip just around the rim, pulling himself open. He bit his lower lip as he slid his index finger deeper in, down to the knuckle, then crooked his finger and brushed his prostate. He exhaled, a little “ah,” and heard Hakkai echo it and grinned to himself. Someone was enjoying the show. He pumped his finger in and out, pretending it was Hakkai, and ran his other hand up and down Hakkai’s dick, setting a rhythm of fucking himself and jerking Hakkai. Hakkai tried to stifle a wanton noise, but Gojyo could feel him trembling as he watched with his fingers clamped tight on Gojyo’s shoulders. He slipped his middle finger into his asshole, crooking it into the natural curve of his body, and knelt forward, bringing his hips closer to Hakkai’s. Hakkai took Gojyo’s dick into hand again and joined Gojyo’s rhythm, albeit unsteadily. He licked his lips, and Gojyo licked his too, but then, Hakkai spoke:

“You’re so beautiful, Gojyo.”

The way Gojyo’s heart clenched, the way he jerked his fingers in deeper, that was just how good Hakkai was making him feel. It wasn’t that wealth of emotion Gojyo was seeing in his face and wide eyes. However, Hakkai sat up and ran his thumb up his jawline, forcing him to let go, and Gojyo pushed his fingers in all the way as Hakkai ran his hand through Gojyo’s hair and pulled Gojyo in to kiss him, kneeling up close to him. His tongue brushed the roof of Gojyo’s mouth, then he whispered, “Are you ready?”

Gojyo forced his ring finger in right then, but the burn faded when he got his fingertips to his prostate. He gasped, but grinned. “Yeah. Okay. Condom. You don’t know where I’ve been.”

He had one in his wallet, and he dove for his pants to grab it. Hakkai waited, his cock hard in his hand, and Gojyo unrolled the condom down his shaft. He squeezed the base of Hakkai’s dick, then let go and took Hakkai’s hands into his. Kneeling with his shoulders back and hips up, he drew Hakkai towards him, leading him by the hips, until the end of his dick was nudging the pucker of his hole, and Gojyo adjusted his angle and let Hakkai push in.

“Oh.” Hakkai sounded surprised, like the air had been knocked out of him, and he looked a little dizzy from the heady pleasure. Then, he pushed a little deeper, wringing a groan out of Gojyo as his passage was stretched to accommodate Hakkai’s girth. Damn, he was thicker than he had first looked. He waited until Hakkai had fully settled, then rested his hand on the small of Hakkai’s back.

“Gimme a minute. Damn, that’s good.”

“Oh,” Hakkai repeated, and slipped his arms around Gojyo’s shoulders. “It is.”

Gojyo had to suck in a few deep breaths, because now Hakkai was rocking just a little, as if too eager to please, but not yet moving in earnest, giving Gojyo the time he needed to adjust. Gojyo leaned up just enough to kiss Hakkai on the cheek. “I’m ready. You can do whatever you want to me.”

Hakkai’s breathing was ragged as he pulled back – Gojyo nearly groaned at the loss – then filled Gojyo again, nice, slow, and steady. He put his forehead to Gojyo’s without unseating himself, then fastened his mouth on Gojyo’s and kissed him, deep and sweet. Gojyo’s tongue speared past Hakkai’s, tasting every inch of his mouth, and Hakkai trembled, but licked at the inside of Gojyo’s mouth for himself. He undulated again, withdrawing and pushing himself back into Gojyo, then rasping, “You feel glorious. Your body is so warm, so tight. The way you accept me, so easily, it's—” He pushed in again, wringing a soft keen out of Gojyo that Gojyo hadn’t known he had in him. “Oh, it’s wonderful, so wonderful.”

“Mmmh.” Gojyo wanted to say something more articulate, to tell Hakkai how good he felt, but that would only lead to saying stupid things like, 'You feel better than anyone who’s ever fucked me,’ or 'I love the way you feel,’ even those three words he was sure would be the first three nails in his coffin and possibly the last. Instead, he groaned, “You feel amazing. Give me more. Little faster. Want you to wreck me.”

Ask and you shall receive, so Gojyo found. Hakkai picked up speed, thrusting with Gojyo’s dick squeezed between the pair of them, then shifted his hips and found Gojyo’s prostate with the head of his cock. Gojyo groaned until he thought he would cry, and Hakkai grunted with an animalistic sort of satisfaction Gojyo didn’t expect out of him. “Oh, yes, oh yes,” he whispered, and kissed the shell of Gojyo’s ear and rocked him against the mattress. Gojyo squeezed Hakkai closer to him, scrabbling for purchase as pleasure pulsed through him with every rock of Hakkai’s hips. He hooked his ankles on Hakkai’s shoulders to let him get that little bit deeper, and was rewarded with an appreciative smile and a deeper thrust from Hakkai. His body sang with sensation, overstimulation catching up with him, and he was only just realizing that his balls were drawing up and if Hakkai hit his prostate just so one more time, he was going to come all over Hakkai and himself and die a little in the process.

“Gonna lose it,” he groaned, and ran his hands down to Hakkai’s ass and squeezed. “Give it to me. Wanna feel you come.”

Hakkai didn’t say a word, but released Gojyo just long enough to yank his pillow closer. He lifted Gojyo for a split second, put the pillow under his hips, then drove deep into Gojyo with all he had. If he’d been any deeper, he would have been inside of Gojyo's very heart (as if he didn't already have claim to it). He was talking, whispering into the air between them, “Yes, yes, yes,” nonsense Gojyo couldn’t make out because he was seeing stars and hearing white noise, and then he clenched down and his dick spilled all over his stomach and Hakkai froze on top of him, shuddering.

“Oh, God, oh, shit,” Gojyo hissed, and ran his hand down his stomach. Hakkai hummed his agreement, face flushed, hair a mess, relaxed and glowing in the soft moonlight.

“Just look at you, all beautiful and messy.” He bent down and licked the spend spread on Gojyo’s belly, and Gojyo, who hadn’t thought he could be more spent, felt his dick jump again at the thought of Hakkai taking him in. He cleaned him completely, then leaned up and kissed him on the mouth. Gojyo could taste himself, salty and musky, but Hakkai giggled as he drew his tongue back and rubbed his nose to Gojyo’s. “And so very, very sweet.”

They stayed like that for a few lazy minutes, trading little kisses to the cheek, Gojyo gradually lowering his legs from Hakkai’s shoulders to his waist, and Hakkai finally pulling out with a soft grunt. Gojyo moaned a little, already missing the feeling of completion he’d had, but Hakkai consoled him with a few kisses down his cheek. He gently unwound Gojyo’s legs from his waist to let him sprawl on the bed, and put the pillow back under his head. He murmured sweet nothings, “stay there, right there,” as he sat up, peeled the condom off and dropped it into a convenient wastebasket at the bedside. Then, he wrapped his arms around his chest and pulled him close. “I know you may need a moment to clean up, but can I hold you for just a few minutes?”

“Sounds nice.” Gojyo let his eyes fall shut, and Hakkai ran his fingers through his hair and drew his cheek to his chest to let him listen to his heartbeat. They settled into the peace and moonlight that surrounded them, glowing from the window and the warmth of their bodies. After a moment, Gojyo tickled Hakkai’s ear. “Okay, babe, who tipped you off?”

“Mm?”

Gojyo sat up a little so he could see Hakkai’s face. “Someone told you it was my birthday, right?”

Hakkai pursed his lips, hiding a perplexed expression, but he relented with a sleepy smile. “Goku.”

Gojyo sighed and slumped back down, shaking his head against the pillow and smiling to himself. “The little bastard. Shit, I can’t even be mad at him.” He tunneled his fingers through Hakkai’s hair, mussing his part. “But this is literally the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

For some reason, Hakkai’s expression warped to sudden sadness. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. I don’t celebrate it.” Gojyo lowered his focus away from Hakkai’s place. “My, uh, my birthday wasn’t a happy day when I was a kid. And then I grew up, and I thought it didn’t matter.”

Hakkai suddenly fastened his hand in Gojyo’s hair, gently, and lightly tugged it to lift his face. “Gojyo, it does matter, because you matter. You matter very much to me. I wanted to celebrate the day that you arrived in this world, because if you’d never been born, we’d never have met.” He slid his hand down the back of Gojyo’s head to his neck. “Perhaps we have not known each other long, but I can hardly imagine what this world would be like without you in it.” His smooth palm ran down the length of Gojyo’s spine. “I want to celebrate the very fact that I know you, and today, of all days, you deserve to be celebrated.”

Gojyo had to close his eyes because he was sure his stupid, stupid tear ducts were about to betray him. “Ain’t nobody said anything like that to me before,” he muttered without meaning to, and Hakkai held him incrementally tighter.

“I will say it as many times as I must. You are valued. You deserve to be treated well.” Hakkai kissed his brow and nudged his knee between Gojyo’s, then curled in to press his forehead to Gojyo’s. “You’re charming, and as kind a man as I’ve met. Even your rough edges only endear you to me.” He rubbed his nose against Gojyo’s, his cheek rustling the soft sheet under them, and Gojyo pulled just a little closer to him, intoxicated with emotion, feelings he couldn’t, wouldn’t dare to name or give voice to. Not yet. Not when things were so perfect right here, right now.

“Hey.” Gojyo kissed his nose. “When’s your birthday?”

“September 21st.”

“Shit.” Gojyo groaned, but Hakkai giggled.

“It was just before we met; don’t feel bad. How old are you?”

“Twenty-four.”

“The same as me, now.” Hakkai hummed his contentment, and rested his chin on Gojyo’s shoulder. “We’ll have plenty more years to celebrate together.”

Gojyo believed it. He wanted to believe it. He wanted to lay here wrapped up with Hakkai for as long as the both of them lived. (Leave it to him to jump from being too chickenshit to say three little words right into wanting to marry the guy.) He tried instead to stay here, in the moment, in being in… into feeling like this, content, safe, wanted, and settled into content silence under the soft veil of their breathing.

Until the oven downstairs emitted a bright, brassy klaxon, and Hakkai laughed wearily into Gojyo’s neck. “The brownies. Ah, and you should clean yourself up, too, or you’ll be a mess tomorrow.”

“I’ll let you make me a mess tomorrow,” Gojyo chuckled back, his voice husky as he struggled to untangle himself and sit up. Hakkai barely stopped to grab a shirt and boxer shorts before jogging down the stairs, and Gojyo staggered to the bathroom, unsurprised to find himself weak in the knees.

He was wrecked, ruined, and very, very happily so.

When he returned to bed, it was to Hakkai sitting on the end of it, still half-dressed, with two brownies on a plate in his lap, one of which had a candle stuck in the top. “I’ve got more presents for you downstairs, but that can wait until later. You, er, don’t need me to sing, do you?”

Gojyo, still naked, still feeling very well-used, just grinned. “Nah. Just need a fork and maybe some pleasant company.”

Hakkai shrugged and picked the brownie with the candle in it up in his fingers. “Make a wish, and I’ll provide the utensils and company.”

Gojyo didn’t need to wish for anything. Not with the promise of being hand-fed fresh, warm brownies, a future with more nights like this, and the sweetest man alive smiling at him.

* * *

He fell asleep in Hakkai’s bed, completely unintentionally, and woke to his usual alarm. The sky was only just starting to lighten, but Hakkai’s side of the bed had long since gone cold. Gojyo grimaced for a moment and groped in the spot he’d last seen him; curled up knee to knee and nose to nose, with a sleepy smile on his face and smelling of chocolate and toothpaste. What he found, however, was a note left on Hakkai’s pillow:

_“I had to go to work but couldn’t bear to wake you. I left a spare key on the table (yours to keep) and a cup of coffee for you in the microwave. Please lock the front door when you leave, then come by the bakery and knock on the back door, as I will have your breakfast and lunch. Yesterday evening was wonderful. You are wonderful. Even observing you as you sleep (albeit while trying to evade your wandering hands) has been a joy I never thought I could have again, but it is one I hope we can share again very, very soon.”_

Then there was a heart and Hakkai’s signature. Gojyo grinned, feeling like a schoolgirl face to face with her favorite band member, like Heaven and Providence had smiled on him, and bounded from bed, ready to face the day without a single cloud in his mind.

He’d gotten a key. That was practically blanket permission to be in Hakkai’s home. He was welcome, he was really, truly wanted. He had someone who was considerate of him, who thought him special, who was still going out of his way to please.

Who needed birthdays when he had someone who made him this happy every day? He didn’t need presents when he had something this good.


	17. Truce?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanzo and Gojyo have some things in common, so at some point, they have to have a conversation. At least one.

**17: Truce?**

Gojyo could have made a lot of jokes about coming up to Hakkai’s back door. He just decided not to when he saw the person he would’ve been making them in front of. Sanzo was propped against the bricks, smoking a cigarette and checking something on his phone. Gojyo tried to ignore him as he walked past him to the rear entry door, but Sanzo, without looking up, put his cigarette arm across the entrance to bar it. Gojyo groaned and crossed his arms. “Look, I ain’t just barging in. Hakkai told me–”

“He told me that you’d be coming, and he’d answer if anyone knocked.” Sanzo flicked his cigarette into the trash and put his phone away, his cold stare settling on Gojyo. It was weird, in this light – in a lot of lights, really – Sanzo’s eyes were purple. Gojyo had been told that his own eyes looked red at sunrise and sunset, but to him, they were just a nice rich brown. Sanzo actually had this weird, unearthly look about him. Still, the strangeness in his face didn’t betray any emotion – not unusual for the stoic grouch. “I thought I’d save you the trouble. You’re early, anyway.”

Gojyo grunted and hunched his shoulders. “I can wait.” Just as he was turning, Sanzo heaved a sigh.

“Wait.” He opened his jacket and dug into the pocket, then held out a roughly-wrapped, unevenly shaped parcel. “Here. Sorry it’s late, and whatever.”

Gojyo sealed his lips, because all the numbers were there in front of him but they weren’t adding up. After a second, Sanzo stomped his foot and shook the lumpy gift. “Take the damn thing, I’m not returning it because you’re too stupid to accept a present!”

“Fine, Christ!” Gojyo snatched it from his hands, and Sanzo promptly closed his jacket and crossed his arms again. Gojyo tore at the paper and found a red and black scarf and a matching knit cap sealed inside, with a handwritten tag reading “From Goku & Sanzo” in Goku’s sloppy scrawl. Gojyo was, again, struck stupid. Sanzo coolly lit up a fresh cigarette and took the first drag as Gojyo turned the tag over in his hand.

“He wanted to make a big deal of it,” he muttered, breaking the silence. “I told him you wouldn’t like that, we should just get you something useful and be nice to you.”

Gojyo hunched his shoulders and and scowled. “What makes you think any of that? Shit, you don’t know me.”

Sanzo arched an eyebrow. “You would have preferred if I’d let Goku convince Hakkai to hire a skywriter to trace Happy Birthday in the clouds for you?” Gojyo sealed his lips again, and Sanzo pulled on his cigarette and exhaled with a sigh. “The fact that you didn’t tell anyone. Even Hakkai. I figured you had a good reason for ignoring it.”

Shit. The fucker had meant well. “Shit,” he muttered aloud, and turned the hat and scarf over in his hands. “I mean…”

“My dad was a youth counselor for forty years.” Sanzo was all but whispering. “He tells me, you have to listen to what people aren’t saying.” He took a breath, then added, a little louder and with all of his usual cutting harshness, “I’m not gonna pry, ‘cause it ain’t my business, but I figured you had your reasons and you’re entitled to live the way you want. Even so, Goku wanted to do something nice for you, to show you he cares.”

“And you like making other people do the work and signing your name on the card.” Gojyo smirked, and Sanzo scoffed, which gave Gojyo permission to drop his eyes, contrite and a little guilty. “It’s nice stuff. Thanks. I mean it.”

“He picked it.” Sanzo put his cigarette back in his mouth. “Said he saw you running around without a jacket and figured you didn’t have any good winter stuff. I just delivered it. Don’t thank me.”

“I’ll thank the squirt when I get back in.” Gojyo finally put the scarf and hat in his jacket and leaned on the wall, lighting up his own cigarette. “And, uh, thanks. Y'know.” He didn’t want to say for what, and Sanzo didn’t ask. They smoked together for a moment, as Gojyo gathered his thoughts. “So... hey. Look, I’m glad you’re giving the kid a chance–”

“Oh, here we go,” Sanzo muttered, but Gojyo spoke on as if he hadn’t.

“But, uh, I care about him, too. He doesn’t talk about it much, but I think he came from a rough place too. He doesn’t know much about the world. I guess what I’m saying is, be gentle.”

Sanzo sneered and stubbed his cigarette out on the brick behind him. “You don’t have to worry about him.” His quiet voice, however, didn’t match his hard expression. “I won’t hurt him. Not unless he asks for it.”

Gojyo grinned to himself. “Yeah? Is it like that?”

“Get fucked.” Sanzo scowled, which only elicited a broad smirk from Gojyo.

“Just did, thanks.”

Sanzo groaned and put his hand over his face. “Fantastic. You porked my best friend and now you’re showing off.”

“Hey, no, ain’t like that. We made love.” Gojyo felt a stir of butterflies and arousal at repeating the words Hakkai had used for it, and his face got too warm. Sanzo, for his part, looked immensely uncomfortable, pale, eyebrows wrought up. “And… ain’t showin’ off. But, if you were with him–”

“I think this conversation is over.” Sanzo pushed himself off the wall, then jabbed a finger into Gojyo’s chest. “But the same you said to me goes to you. Treat him well.”

“I will.” Gojyo put his hand over his heart, pushing Sanzo's hand away in the same motion. “I’d never hurt him on purpose, not if I can help it.” He paused, and a thought occurred, bringing with it a smirk. “And hey, if you’re real nice, I’ll give the kid a good pep talk. I hear he was raised by wolves, so he might not know what to do with a hard-on when it ain’t attached to him.”

Sanzo went crimson and purple, but hissed, “He was raised in foster care, and I’m sure his education is adequate.”

“Foster care, wild animals, same difference.” Gojyo smirked even as Sanzo stewed in frustration. “But if he asks for advice and 'how-do-you-do-that’s, I’m gonna tell him.”

“Do what you want.” Sanzo snatched out another cigarette and turned his body away, then muttered, “My parents want to meet you. They’ve known Hakkai since he was ten and want to know who he’s been seeing. Hakkai’ll give you the details when they come up, but I’m gonna warn you now not to fuck with Toudai.” He clicked his tongue with obvious annoyance. “Koumyou’s already determined to like you.”

Gojyo squinted. “Holy shit, you have two dads?” Sanzo braced himself, but to his surprise, Gojyo nodded. “That’s kinda cool. I didn’t even have one dad.”

Sanzo absorbed this, his lip curling, but he nodded. “Mm. Raised by your mom?”

“No.” Gojyo was quiet for a moment, and Sanzo got the feeling he was walling something bitter back, hooding it under the fall of his bangs. Then, he knocked on the back door. “Good talking to ya, but my stomach’s growling.”

Hakkai opened the back door a moment later, carrying the warm, deeply sweet scent of caramelized sugar with him, and smiled for Gojyo as he handed him a paper bag and a cup. “I’m glad you came by.” He kissed Gojyo on the cheek as he passed the cup off, and Sanzo politely ignored them as they exchanged mundane pleasantries. He could not ignore the way Hakkai casually stroked Gojyo’s cheek, or Gojyo’s dreamlike, goofy smile.

They were such a cute couple, it was disgusting. Hakkai’s expression was one of utter peace and contentment. Sanzo was sure he hadn’t seen him look that happy in years.

Gojyo wandered back to the road with his croissant, a bag Hakkai said was for Goku, a stupid smile, and not a single word more to Sanzo. Hakkai, however, leaned around the door. “You’ve been out here a while. If you smoke like that, you’ll sound like an old man before you see a single gray hair.”

Sanzo grunted and dropped his last butt, ground it into the dirt with his shoe, and glared up the step at Hakkai. “At least I won’t sound like a schoolmarm.”

“How delightfully contrarian of you.” Hakkai sighed and let the door shut behind him. “I heard you two talking, though not what you were saying.”

“Nothing important.”

“Really?” Hakkai made no effort to hide that he didn’t believe him. “Usually you two struggle to exchange two words without either directly or indirectly insulting one another.”

“Mm.” Sanzo narrowed his eyes. “He missed a few opportunities to get me good today. I think you wore him out.”

Hakkai laughed brightly at this. “Do you? Perhaps he drew some sort of line.”

“Maybe.” Sanzo grimaced and turned to ascend the stairs, but Hakkai touched his shoulder the moment he faced him.

“Thank you. You were right. Going low-key was the correct decision.”

“Don’t thank me for pointing out the obvious.” Sanzo sneered, but lowered his face. “And what are you going to do when your birthday comes around and he wants to fly you to the moon?”

“Hmm.” This made Hakkai’s gaze flick to the ground, and he touched his lower lip. “He was disappointed to find out mine had already passed. But I’ll take that ride when I get to it.” He broke his grip on Sanzo. “I’m going to get back to work, but I wanted to thank you for that much. I’ll attempt to repay you somehow.”

“I know I can’t stop you, so it’s pointless to tell you it’s unnecessary.” Sanzo followed him back inside, and resolved to put it out of his mind.

Between Gojyo being slightly less of a pain than usual and Hakkai looking as happy as he’d ever seen him, it wasn’t worth worrying about.

* * *

“Mornin’, monkeybrains!” Gojyo grinned from his place on the stool behind the desk, as Goku stumbled in, yanking off his jacket.

“Hey, you’re on time!” He laughed as he threw his coat into the office, and Gojyo slid off the stool. “I figured you’d be late after a night, y'know–” Goku broke off and made a few kissy noises and smooching faces, wrapping his arms around himself, and Gojyo shoved his shoulder, laughing.

“Oh, fuck off!”

Goku, incorrigible, just chanted back, “Gojyo and Hakkai, sittin’ in a tree!” He finished the cadence with a smooches to the rhythm. Then, “First comes l–”

“I told you, quit it!” Gojyo cuffed Goku across the head, then ruffled his hair. “Oh, and Sanzo passed on your gift. That was real nice of you, kid.”

Goku chuckled, blushing just a little, and pushed Gojyo’s hand off to fix his hair back into its usual shaggy mop. “Aww. Of course, we’re friends!”

“Yeah.” Gojyo chuckled, then let his smile fall away. “Look, it was real nice of you to tell Hakkai, but you didn’t have to.” He put his hands on his hips. “Maybe let me tell him stuff like that?”

“You didn’t tell him, and I knew he would'a wanted to know. I’m glad he did somethin’ nice for ya.” Goku raised an eyerow but reached past Gojyo to the computer to finish the order he’d been placing with a click. “So, don’t give me grief over it. I did it for Hakkai, not you, you overgrown cockroach.”

Gojyo snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, I’m sure he appreciates it. I hope he thanked you.” He zipped the front of his jumpsuit the rest of the way and motioned to the desk. “He sent you a cinnamon bun, anyway.”

“Awesome!” Goku went to unwrap the bun, as Gojyo stepped aside to tie his hair back . He pulled back the white paper, only to find a piece of looseleaf tucked between the bag and the plastic around the bun.

Gojyo heard him unfold the paper, then an eager squeal. He spun around to check on him, and found Goku holding a note in his hands and grinning with glee. “He did! He thanked me good!” He turned the page towards Gojyo, and read in Hakkai’s handwriting:

_“Sanzo’s 25th birthday is November 29, though I imagine he will not acknowledge it. He would probably be content with some peace and quiet, as his father celebrates him vigorously and the excessive attention chafes him. Should you wish to celebrate him…”_

It went on to list Sanzo’s preferred clothing brands and sizes, favored colors and patterns, favorite musical artists, everything Goku might need to select a gift for him. Gojyo wiped the gobsmacked look off of his face and let his hands fall into a slow clap. “Oh, man, he did thank ya good.”

“Yeah!” Goku stuffed the note into his breast pocket and hugged his own chest. “Man, I’m way glad our boyfriends are friends and you and me are friends and we’re friends with each other’s boyfriends and stuff!”

“Yeah.” Gojyo considered Sanzo for a moment, and the hat and scarf now hanging on the rack in the office with his jacket. “I wouldn’t say me and him are good friends, but we’re good enough friends. C'mon, monkeywrench, the retail re-order can wait.”

“Huh?”

“C'mere and help me with this tire replacement.” He slung an arm over Goku’s shoulder. “And, uh, hey, tell me, how far have you gone with a guy before?”

Goku turned pink, and Gojyo grinned to himself. No, Sanzo wasn’t all that bad of a guy. Gojyo was going to do him one solid.

Neither of them really knew it for himself, but they’d somehow gotten themselves onto even ground.


	18. Exactly What He Wanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Sanzo’s birthday, and Goku has no idea what to do for him, given his limitations. That doesn’t mean he’s not going to try!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted this chapter for Sanzo's birthday, but somehow it ended up Goku-centric. I also made something of an executive decision here regarding a character's personal arc. It will not change the love story or the overall arc of the character, I've just decided to adjust some of the details. All I ask is that you come in with an open mind. Enjoy!

**18: Exactly What He Wanted**

Business had spiked at both the auto shop and the bakery in the week leading up to Thanksgiving, with Gojyo changing tires and oil for college students traveling home and family driving over the mountains to family in the big cities or even destinations further and Hakkai fulfilling the pastry needs of every kitchen-challenged housewife in a ten-mile radius with pies and tarts galore. Sanzo knew the two had been in contact, if only from all of the flour smudges on Hakkai’s cellphone and the red cracks in his skin.

“Either text him less or moisturize more,” Sanzo groused as he saw Hakkai wash his hands again. Hakkai sighed like he always did when scolded.

“I’ll put a layer of Vaseline on when I get home. I miss him, but I can’t allow my hands to be unsanitary. Do you know how much bacteria lives on your phone?”

Sanzo scrunched his nose as he took his phone from his pocket, scowled at it, and decided he really didn’t want to know. “He’ll live if you don’t text him back for a few hours.”

“Yes, but I haven’t seen him. We’ve both been busy, and seeing a message from him is the closest I can be with him.” Hakkai smiled fondly to himself, then sighed and pushed his phone to the edge of his board. “Besides, you’re one to talk.”

Sanzo’s phone chose that moment to remind him he had a text from Goku waiting for him, and he groaned and checked it to clear the line of Emojis he’d sent.

He hadn’t seen Goku for the past week, but they’d exchanged a few messages. Goku had done most of the exchanging, sending things like, “Hope you’re having a good day!” or stories about things that had happened at the garage, or just smiley faces and hearts. He had been waiting for Goku to start harassing him about a certain upcoming event that he was sure Hakkai had alerted him to, but the he hadn’t said a word.

The most he’d seen of Goku, face to face, was the day before Thanksgiving. He’d shown up and wove through the crowd with a chipper smile and an order slip. “Three tarte-tatins under Son, please.” Sanzo found the order and passed it to him, bracing himself for the inevitable conversation, but Goku took it and gave him a big grin. “Thanks a bunch!”

Sanzo hid his confusion behind a frown. “I suppose you have plans.”

“Uh-huh. Mama invited us to the foster home for Thanksgiving.” He came up short, eyes wide. “Oh man, were you and Koumyou gonna invite me for dinner? I’m super sorry!”

“It’s… it’s fine.” Sanzo shook his head, but rang Goku up for only two of the three tartes. He'd cover the last one out of pocket later. “We don’t do much anyway. You wouldn’t like it.”

“I’m sure I’d have a great time!” Goku clamped a hand down on top of Sanzo’s as he pushed the cake boxes across the counter. “Just, Mama raised us, and she misses us, so we like to go home when we can. These are for her and the other kids, y'know?” He scooped up the boxes, then leaned across the counter to kiss Sanzo on the cheek. “But next time, I’ll try to spend it with you! If you want me to, y'know.” He bounded out, still waving and saying, “See ya later!”

Thanksgiving had passed, and now Sanzo was waiting for Goku to say something, _anything_ , about his “special day.” Koumyou hadn’t shut up for three days, always pestering him about what he wanted, what kind of cake, what restaurant they’d go to, and who to invite. Hakkai had merely hinted that he’d gotten him something, though no clues as to what. Goku hadn’t made a peep. Sanzo looked at the string of hearts Goku had sent him again, and finally sucked it up and whipped around on Hakkai as he returned to his scale. “Okay, what is he planning?”

“Beg pardon?” Hakkai paused with his hand in the flour bin.

“Goku. He’s planning something for my birthday, I know you told him, what is that chimpanzee doing?”

Hakkai frowned, then continued to work as he spoke, scooping flour into the scale. “I’m not certain how I would know. I did tell him, yes, but he and I have only spoken in passing of late. He and Gojyo have been busy with the rush of people getting ready to travel for the holiday and emergency tows. People are reasonably wary about traveling over the mountains.” He moved to his mixer, only just flashing eye contact with Sanzo. “I haven’t even been able to see Gojyo for more than a quick lunch. Goku is either helping customers, working on cars, or studying in the bathroom.”

“Studying,” Sanzo repeated. Of course. Maybe Goku had gotten so busy with school, he’d forgotten his birthday. That might have been for the best – he couldn’t do anything ridiculous that way. Still, the thought burned him just a little, though he couldn’t quite explain why. “Fine. I’ll check in on him once the goddamn semester’s ended.” He stormed off to get back to work, and tried not to think about it.

Dealing with Koumyou’s nagging was enough trouble for him anyway. He shouldn’t be put out because Goku hadn’t planned anything for him. He knew he’d only be more annoyed at all the zany mischief Goku would surely put on for him.

He would just rather not think about that weird little urge to indulge Goku, if only because letting Goku succeed at it would make him stupid happy, and that’d be worth it. Best to forget what he couldn’t or wouldn’t have.

* * *

“Crap, crap, crap.” Goku slumped in the shop stool and groaned as he flipped through two internet windows open on his phone: his bank account and an Amazon wishlist he’d put together of stuff he could get for Sanzo. He’d had a lot of ideas, lots of big ideas: fancy headphones, cashmere sweaters, silk ties, all the things Hakkai had recommended, but he had two big problems. First, he couldn’t pick just one or two things to get for him, and second, his bank account said no to any and all of them. He’d begged Gojyo for more hours, even pleading with him to pay under the table, but Gojyo had staunchly refused:

“Your course guide says I’m allowed to give you a maximum of thirty hours, and I don’t wanna have you taken away because I bend the rules.” He’d sighed and ruffled Goku’s hair. “You need a loan or something, kid?”

Goku couldn’t do that. Mama had taught him not to deal money with friends, that loaning and borrowing only led to trouble, and besides, he knew Gojyo’s wallet wasn’t exactly thick. He had scrimped and saved all he could, going skint on groceries for a few weeks (Nataku didn’t notice; he generally lived on a diet of coffeepot ramen and Easy Mac), and even skipping a bowling invitation so he wouldn’t have to rent shoes. Still, he knew if he bought Sanzo even one of the gifts he’d picked out, he wouldn’t be able to afford groceries at all next week, and even if Nataku didn’t mind if Goku bought the cheap ramen, he would notice if there was no ramen at all. Sanzo would have been embarrassed at him if he blew all his money on something as nice as he deserved.

What was he to do, then? Sanzo did deserve something nice, something _really_ nice. It was so hard to get a smile out of him, but Goku wanted nothing more than to bask in the sunshine of his happiness. He couldn’t think of any alternatives – it was go broke, or risk frustrating Sanzo.

“Kiddo?” Gojyo popped his head into the shop. “Hey, no phone right now. I’m gonna head out back for a smoke, if anyone asks for me, can you make ‘em hold on just a minute?”

“Hey, Gojyo?” Goku twisted around on the stool. “I’m kinda stuck. I wanna get Sanzo a gift, but I’m gonna go broke if I do.”

“Then don’t get him something.” Gojyo rolled his eyes. “He won’t care.”

Goku groaned and pushed his phone to the end of the desk. “Yeah, but I will! I’ll know, the first year we were together, I couldn’t get him nothing, and I’ll feel like a jerk forever.”

Gojyo heaved a sigh, then reached out and mussed his hair. “Well, I ain’t got him shit either, you wanna go Dutch?”

Goku chuckled a little and pushed Gojyo’s hand back, then fixed his hair. “I dunno, you and him are friends, but you’re not good friends.”

“Yeah, well.” Gojyo stuffed his hand in his pocket, only to dig out his cigarettes. “Figure it out, willya? Back in five, and don’t let customers catch you on your phone.” He pivoted and strode out, and Goku sighed.

“Yeah, yeah.” He was happy Gojyo had been in better spirits for the past week and change despite being swamped, but that didn’t mean he had to nag. Goku sighed and shifted nervously in his chair. He didn’t even know what he was going to do that night, let alone how he was going to impress Sanzo. Sanzo seemed like someone who might want to be impressed, who might want the person he was with to blow him out of the water with lavish treatment. Not surprises, but at least a slice of paradise. Sanzo had been so nice – magnanimous, even – in agreeing to see him at all. Sanzo was mature, and he seemed so powerful, like a force of nature. Goku felt small next to him, which was why it felt so good when Sanzo did listen to him, when he wrung a laugh out from those smooth lips, when he nodded to himself as if Goku had said something worthwhile, as if he was worthwhile. He wanted that. He wanted that smile.

He broke from his reverie as his phone went off. He scooped it up, hoping it was a reply text from Sanzo, but sulked with disappointment to find it was just an email alert from his college account. He opened it, fingers crossed it was good news about a canceled assignment, only to find more bad news.

“Crap.”

* * *

Sanzo had just stepped out of the bakery when he heard his phone ring. He wasn’t surprised to see Goku calling. Really, it was expected. He waited for the first ring to stop completely before picking up. “You’ve reached Sanzo.”

“Jeez, I’d hoped so,” Goku chuckled, but Sanzo heard a note of tension in his voice. “Hey, uh, so, uh…” Goku hemmed and hawed for a moment, and Sanzo put his hands on his hips as if Goku could see his impatience.

“Spit it out, monkeybrains.”

Goku swore off the receiver, then asked, high-pitched and quickly, “You, uh, like pizza?”

That wasn’t what Sanzo had been expecting. He had no idea what to do with the question except give an honest answer: “I’m picky about it, but yes.”

“Oh, good! Um, so, I was wondering if maybe you’d want to come over my place and eat pizza and maybe watch a movie or something?”

Sanzo almost wanted to ask what Goku was playing at. He’d heard Goku going off with crazy ideas for Gojyo’s birthday, where the hell would this lead him? Still, Goku wasn’t the type to trick people; he was the type of person who couldn’t lie, who hated deception. “What movie?”

“We have Netflix, so anything on there. Your pick.”

This was definitely a birthday celebration, it just wasn’t what he’d expected out of Goku. It also sounded perfectly acceptable. “Sure.”

“Great! How do you like your pizza?”

“Thin crust, anchovies.”

“Gross.” Goku laughed. “Thin crust and anchovies for you, and I’ll get pepperoni on half for me. Can you be here around seven?”

Sanzo snorted. “I don’t know where 'here’ is.”

“Oh! Right! Crap! Uh, if I text it to you, can you put it into the GPS on your phone?”

Sanzo could, told Goku as much, and they exchanged “see you soon”s so Goku could text him. Sanzo had been expecting a ton more, but really, this was completely reasonable by his standards. Goku had an odd knack for figuring Sanzo’s limits almost exactly, able to get right to the edge of his comfort zone, even just pushing his boundaries a little further out than before with unusually gentle fingers and pure intentions. It almost made him question why he always expected the worst.

Maybe because with damned near everyone else, expecting the worst was the best way to avoid disappointment.

Sanzo didn’t recognize the street in Goku’s address, but his GPS found it without issue, and the computer’s voice guided him in his sturdy white Subaru through the familiar older part of the town, past the market street and the college neighborhood. He only got an idea of his destination when he had to stop for a train crossing: the other side of the tracks. The rails were a relic of when the town was founded around its coal mines, when the entire workforce was connected to the mining business, but as the mines died out, so did opportunities for otherwise unskilled workers, migrants and natives alike, which resulted in a minor depression in the area. All the people who’d settled in the shadow of the mountain collapsed into poverty. Koumyou had grown up in a neighboring city, and became a youth counselor at seeing the blight of children abandoned by their parents in desperation, single mothers whose partners had vanished or refused to care for their offspring, The city had only remained solvent as a mountain resort for retirees – the mountains were hollow, but still beautiful – and had begun to recover in the tech boom, when Silicon Valley geniuses were looking for a quiet place to raise their families and found the old city perfectly suited. The side of the town that had been left for the poverty-stricken ex-miners, however, still stood on this side of the railroad tracks, tenements and cramped quarters, mostly inhabited by the local college students, but still nowhere anybody would want to live long-term.

He shouldn’t have been surprised.

Goku’s building was a spindly, crooked looking apartment mid-rise, and based on his unit number, he lived on the fourth floor. Sanzo couldn’t help but turn his nose up at it – what kind of place was this? Anger crept through him as he entertained the notion of Goku and his roommate sharing some tiny, filthy little tenement, but as he walked past the empty reception desk and the barren lobby, he only felt that nasty feeling gathering steam. The elevator was out of order, so four flights of stairs it was, with Sanzo getting more sour with each step. The hallways were cramped and dusty, though someone had vacuumed recently, so clearly someone still cared a little. Goku’s apartment was in the middle of the hall, and Sanzo knocked quietly. There was no answer, so he knocked louder. This got a response:

“I heard you the first time.” Sanzo scowled, because he didn’t know that voice. Then, he remembered Goku’s roommate. The door opened, and Sanzo caught a glimpse of a wan face, a sharp jaw, a grey eye. “Don’t you normally call us to the lobby?”

“Do I look like I deliver pizzas?” Sanzo crossed his arms. “Does Goku Son live here or not?”

The man on the other side of the door looked perplexed for a moment, then opened the door wider. This, Sanzo thought, must be Nataku. He was almost as tall as Sanzo, but thin and gangly, with platinum hair cut close and slicked back like a military recruit. He wore drugstore reading glasses, his clothes were a little too big for him, and his neck looked too long for his narrow face. His expression dropped from wariness to resignation, even contrition. "Sorry. You’re Sanzo, right?“

"And you’re Nataku. I’ve heard of you.” Sanzo extended a hand. Nataku stared at it for a moment, before shaking it.

“I guess the pleasure is mine.” Just then, a phone rang, and Nataku turned to get it, leaving Sanzo standing in the door. He peered in, and found it was about as bad as he’d anticipated. He was very obviously looking into Goku and Nataku’s entire living space, a twenty-by-fifteen room that encompassed a tiny kitchen and eating space, a futon sofa in front of a television, and one double bed with two trunks next to it. The faded, chipping paint on the walls was covered with posters, or obscured by milk-crate bookshelves. Goku was at the kitchen table, perched on one of the chairs, with a pen stuck behind his ear, a highlighter in his hand, and a textbook and a notebook open on the table in front of him. Nataku put his cell phone down on the table, then tapped Goku’s shoulder. “Hey, that Sanzo guy you told me about is here. Also, the pizza, so I’ll go get it and be back.” Nataku glanced up at him at the same time Goku lifted his head. “Please don’t stand in the hallway, you’ll let the heat out.” He shuffled past Sanzo, even as Goku keened with delight and bounded up from his seat.

“Hey, you made it!” He got on his tiptoes to kiss Sanzo on the cheek, then caught him around the chest and put his cheek on his breast. “Did you find us okay?”

“I’m not sure how okay this is.” Sanzo sneered around at the apartment – if it could be called that. He’d stayed in motels that were roomier and better appointed. “I had no idea you lived in a place like this.”

“Huh? Oh.” Goku looked around, as if seeing it for the first time, then shrugged, his shoulders sinking. “Yeah, it’s a little cramped, but it’s what we can afford right now. Once me and Nataku both get full-time jobs, maybe we can move up to a bigger place, but this is fine for now.”

“Where do you sleep?” Sanzo found himself glowering at the single bed, but Goku grinned and pointed to the futon, which had a blanket laid over the back and a pillow stuffed under it.

“It folds out! It’s super comfy, too. But honestly, I can sleep most anywhere.” Goku bit his lip. “Uh, you seem surprised.”

“I’m realizing I shouldn’t be.” Goku had said he and Nataku lived together, and that they had little other choice. He also knew both of them were unsupported students, making their own way, and he also knew just how expensive apartments in this town could be. Sanzo finally dared to unbutton his jacket. “Where can I put this?”

Goku hung the coat up on the back of the only door, which Sanzo assumed led to a bathroom (and which he hoped to never see the inside of given the condition of the rest of the building), and encouraged Sanzo to take his shoes off. “We don’t have visitors much, but Nataku prefers we have socks or slippers on.” He sounded a little tense as Sanzo slid his loafers off, and it came through in the little wrinkles between his eyebrows when he turned back around. “Oh, I guess I should… Um, get you a drink, and stuff, yeah!” He hurried past Sanzo to the kitchen and got out a plastic cup that might have had cartoon characters on it at some point, then opened the refrigerator. Sanzo caught a glimpse of a surprisingly clean – and empty – shelf. “Uh, I got cola, root beer, almond milk-”

“Water’s fine.”

Goku was quiet for a second, then muttered, “Wouldn’t really recommend that. It’s always got a coppery taste. It’s okay if you boil it, though, so maybe some tea?”

“Green, if you have it.” Sanzo found a nice cup of green tea often helped with headaches, and he got the feeling he was going to need that.

“We do!” Goku set about boiling some water in the microwave and pouring himself a cup of root beer, as Sanzo took a peek around the room. Most of the books were about criminology, criminal psychology, texts about police procedure and evidence examination, but there were a few general car manuals and dictionaries. The book open on the kitchen table, however, was a math textbook: basic, proficiency-level mathematics. Sanzo could do it in his sleep, but looking at Goku’s notebook, he got the idea that saying so would be boasting.

“I see you have homework.”

“Uh-huh.” Goku scrunched his nose. “I’ll move it in a sec.” He brought Sanzo his tea, then stacked his notebook onto the textbook and put them on a rickety little side table that might have been an excuse for a buffet, then nudged the empty chair away from the table. “So, how’s your birthday been?”

Sanzo scoffed and sat down, even as Goku busied himself with digging the teabags from the pantry. “Uneventful. My fathers want to take me to dinner on Friday. You are invited.”

“Friday? Hmm.” Goku lowered his eyes, and frustration stung Sanzo. Goku should have been jumping for joy at the offer. Instead, he turned back to face Sanzo, pinning a nervous smile on. “Ah, we’ll see, okay? I’ve, uh, got finals coming up real quick, and um…” He trailed off, then mumbled, his gaze low again, “Well, if they’re taking you somewhere nice… I guess I could see if I could find something…” He sighed, but lifted his face with the same hard, forced grin. “I’ll let you know if I can. Um, do I have to wear a tie or anything?”

“Knowing Koumyou’s tastes, smart casual. So, no holes in your pants, no especially loud colors, and if you own a shirt with buttons, that’d be fine.” Sanzo furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t suppose you own a tie.”

Goku shook his head. “The only ties I’ve ever worn are the kind you clip on, and those were always sorta given to me and taken back.”

Pathetic. Sanzo chose not to say as much. “I don’t care much about dress codes, personally, other than the comfort that comes with conformity.” Sanzo went to dig out a cigarette, but the moment he opened the pack, Goku flinched.

“Um! Uh! I’m sorry! Not inside, please!” He waved both hands in front of himself in frantic Xes, and Sanzo, frowning, put the cigarette away. “See, uh, there’s rules, and 'cause there’s kids in the building, we’re not supposed to smoke. Me an’ Nataku don’t smoke, so it’s not a problem, but if someone reports us for smelling like smoke, we’ll get a big fat nasty fine.”

Sanzo raised an eyebrow. “They let kids live here?” He almost wanted to ask how _anyone_  lived here.

Nataku swung the door open just then, carrying a pizza box. “Soup’s on.” He put the box down in the empty space on the table, then flipped it open and grabbed a slice. Goku hustled back to the pantry for paper plates. He put one under Nataku’s slice before he could put it down and handed another one to Sanzo. Nataku remained unfazed, only chewing and swallowing before actually looking at his slice.

“What’s the salty stuff?”

Sanzo scowled to see a slice off of his half had been taken. “Anchovies.”

Nataku scrunched his nose for a second, then took another bite. “They’re high in Omega-3 fatty acids. I could probably use more of those.”

Sanzo almost wanted to ask if Nataku was real. Then he remembered Goku was real, and he hadn’t believed someone could be anything like him before he got to know him. He glanced to Goku, and noticed him putting a little orange bottle back in the pantry. He decided not to ask, took a slice and settled at the tiny table, ignoring that his legs touched Nataku’s under the table or that Goku was standing on the long edge of the table because there wasn’t a third chair. He also kept peeking at his textbook. Sanzo tried to ignore that, too. “You’re in school to be a detective, right?”

“Mhm.” Nataku wolfed down another bite. “I’ll be receiving a BS in criminology with a focus on criminal psychology and a minor in forensic science.”

“Nataku’s pretty wild,” Goku pitched in, grinning around his folded-over slice of pepperoni. “He’s taking, what, twenty-five credits? Even with my internship, I’ve only got sixteen.”

Sanzo raised an eyebrow. “That must be a busy courseload.”

“It is.” Nataku finished his pizza, then dumped the empty plate in the trash. “Goku, I’m gonna study on my bed. Please keep the TV low. I’ll put my headphones on.”

“Sure thing!” Goku took the seat Nataku vacated, and Sanzo watched from the corner of his eye as Nataku grabbed a few books off the shelf and shuffled to his bed, then put a pair of earbuds in. Sanzo then studied Goku as he gobbled his pizza down while twisting his head back to his book every few seconds, then cautiously composed his query.

“Is he always like this?” He motioned to Nataku, hoping Goku understood. Goku chuckled.

“Yeah. He’s kinda weird and shy. I told him you were coming, and he got nervous, but I told him you two were kinda alike, so it should be okay.”

Sanzo narrowed his eyes to a squint. “We’re alike, are we?”

“You’re both quiet and smart, and neither of you says much more than you really have to.” Goku grabbed the two remaining slices of pepperoni pizza, folded them into a sandwich, and ate halfway down the double triangle in two bites. Sanzo knew he was gawking, but tried to quash his surprise into annoyance.

“If you’re willing to be that general, fine. Also, do you actually taste your food?”

Goku snickered through his nose, then swallowed twice to clear his mouth. “Yeah, and it’s tasty, and I’m super hungry, so I wanna eat all of it. I know it annoyed Mama that I ate so much so fast, too, but I think she was jealous that I never gained weight.”

“Seriously.” Sanzo took another nibble from his anchovy slice, enjoying the relative quiet as he ate his piece and Goku noisily scarfed down his. It was quieter than any meal with doting Koumyou would have been, anyway.

Then, Goku broke the silence: “So, I get the feeling you’re a little jealous of Nataku.” Before Sanzo could object, Goku went on, “But I want you to know you don’t have to be. Nataku’s my best friend, and I’m his, but he’s not interested in dating or boyfriends or anything. So, me and him could never be a thing.”

Sanzo was a little dumbstruck, but he shook it off. “Really?” He hoped it came off as flat and disinterested, but he was pretty sure he failed.

“Mhm. I know. I tried. Like, years ago, when we were still teenagers. But he said that kissing was scary and thinking about sex grossed him out, and he probably never wanted to be anyone’s special somebody. He just wanted some good friends, and he didn’t care if they were guys or girls, and he wasn’t gonna be in love with 'em.” Goku dabbed his mouth clean. “Does that make you feel better about me livin’ with him?”

“I never said I was uncomfortable with it.”

Goku just grinned. “It’s in your eyebrows. I can tell you were, at least a little.”

Sanzo sniffed and pushed his plate away. “I’m more concerned about you living here, frankly.”

Goku mulled this over, then rose and cleared up the table, still thinking. Sanzo noticed his eyes flick back to his book once or twice. Eventually, he said, “It’s only for now.” Then, he put on a grin. “I, uh, got you cupcakes! Do you want 'em now or later?”

“Later is fine.”

“More tea?”

“Sure.”

“Okay!” Goku then motioned to the sofa. “Why don’t you get comfy and pick out a movie while I get that for you?”

Sanzo had no argument. Goku talked over the microwave as Sanzo moved his seat: “You said your dads were taking you out, did they do anything today?”

Sanzo didn’t turn from the TV, scrolling through the movie list and failing to find anything interesting. “Presents over breakfast. Koumyou spoils me as if I were still six, except now it’s all clothes and albums or the like. I told them…” He decided not to admit he’d been counting on Goku’s call. “… we should celebrate on the weekend, so I could have a glass of wine without having to worry about waking up in the morning.”

“Smart!” Goku sounded proud, more than anything. “I’m glad they like me enough to invite me!”

“Hmph. You’re dating their boring son, they’d invite you if they thought it’d make me happy whether or not they liked you.” He snorted as he skipped past the Documentary section of the movie listings. Goku would get bored and start talking over it before the opening credits had finished. “Koumyou has a habit of deciding he’ll like someone and making it so, no matter what that person is like.” Goku made a disappointed noise, and Sanzo twisted his head back towards him. “Toudai likes you. He likes that you’re straightforward.”

“Oh! Well, that’s something, I guess’!” Goku returned to the sofa with a cup of tea for Sanzo and his textbook and notebook. “I’m glad they’re doin’ something nice for ya. I actually feel a little bad I can’t do more.”

Sanzo was about to scold Goku for making something out of nothing, when he saw Goku spreading the books out on his knees and getting his highlighter out. He found something new to chew Goku out for. “What’s all this?”

Goku tried to look innocently as he looked at the books. “My, uh, textbook.”

“You said we were going to watch a movie.”

“I was gonna, y'know, multi-task.” Goku bit his lip and shrank back from Sanzo. “I actually had kind of wanted to take you out tonight, but… something came up.”

Nataku suddenly sighed with exasperation. “For Heaven’s sake, Goku.” He yanked his headphones off and held Sanzo’s gaze with a piercing glare. “His math final got moved up to tomorrow because his teacher is going on emergency maternity leave next week, so he has to stay in tonight and study. He thought he could split the difference.”

Goku looked heartbroken when Sanzo whipped back around to him. “Really.”

“I know,” Goku squeaked. “Puh-retty stupid.” He started to shove the books away, but Sanzo twisted in place and caught his wrist.

“Your schoolwork is more important than a single stupid, insignificant day.” He grabbed the book and turned it towards himself. “This is basic math, why are you studying so hard?”

Goku’s cheeks went crimson, and he pouted. “Look, I’m not stupid, okay?” He huffed, shuffling his feet and turning away. “Just, like, numbers? They’re screwy. I have trouble focusing on them. If it’s on a computer screen, I can highlight them with the clicker and underline stuff–” Goku mimed dragging a cursor with his finger– “And then I can read 'em and do math just fine! But this final’s on paper, so I’m trying to do as much practice as I can.”

“Dyscalculia.”

“Bless you.” Goku rubbed his nose, but Sanzo elbowed him in the ribs.

“No. Dyscalculia. It’s like dyslexia, but with numbers.”

“Oh. Oh yeah, Mama did say something like that once.” Goku heaved a sigh. “I dunno, numbers are just hard for me. But that’s not the point.” He slouched, looking utterly crushed, as if Sanzo had stepped on him. “I really wanted to do at least a little something nice for ya. Somethin’ you’d like. But I was tryin’ to take care of me at the same time. I really messed it up.” He tipped his face up to look into Sanzo’s eyes again, doleful and dejected. “I’m sorry. I can put the book away, though–”

“No. Get up.” Sanzo snatched the textbook from Goku’s knee and pushed it into Goku’s side. “Math is what I do for a living, and I happen to like my job. Haul your ass to the table and pull the chair around, we’re studying.”

Goku swallowed audibly, but trudged to the table, books clumsily clutched against his chest, as Sanzo waved to Nataku. Nataku yanked his headphones off again and gave Sanzo a weary look, which Sanzo ignored. "You have a printer and a computer?” Nataku motioned to one of the bookshelves, and Sanzo spotted a laptop computer hooked up to a basic printer. Good enough. “What’s the password?”

“Enter The Monkey 20XX, no spaces.” Nataku put his headphones back on, but Sanzo caught him smiling. Sanzo logged in, found what he wanted, and printed a few pages as Goku moved their drinks back to the kitchen table. Sanzo turned the TV off and put a few sheets of graph paper down on the desk.

“When I have trouble keeping numbers straight, or if I’m doing something complex, I use graph paper. It has lines on it already, I just put one number or symbol in each box. Even your monkey brain should be able to handle that.”

“Y-yeah.” Goku put on a wobbly smile. “That makes a lot of sense. Thanks, Sanzo. Let’s try it.”

Sanzo spent three hours on his birthday evening reviewing high-school level mathematics. He kept Goku’s cup filled with root beer and even found some microwave popcorn in the pantry (along with an unfathomable amount of Easy Mac and instant ramen, _goddamned college students_ ), as Goku went through each chapter of his textbook and did all of the practice tests and reviews. Sanzo checked his work and reviewed the problems he’d gotten wrong, doing his best to stay patient with him. When Goku pulled off an 85 out of 100 on the last test in the book, it was with an exhausted, but satisfied smile.

“This’s great! I always get so nervous whenever I see the word 'Test’ at the top of a page.”

Sanzo, who’d paced behind him as he checked his answers, sniffed and opened to the answer key. “You said you were doing alright in your math class.”

“Yeah.” Goku smiled at the page, eyes low, not making eye contact with Sanzo. “The tests are worth half of the grade, and there’s only two. I do all the homework and try to participate in class, but I only scored a 70 on the midterm. So, I have to do well or I might have to retake the course.”

“Have you reported your dyscalculia to your school’s student support office so you could have extra time or assistance for tests?” Sanzo knew Goku would shake his head, and he did, like a dog shaking off water. “Why the hell not?”

“I kinda forgot it was a thing.” Goku shrugged, looking lower again already. “I used to take stuff for ADHD, and I still take stuff for ADD now, but I didn’t want to have any of that on my record.”

“I reiterate my 'why the hell not.’” Sanzo set his hands on his hips, but Goku slapped his palm on the table.

“'Cause nobody’d want me as their intern if I had that there! Who’s gonna want someone messed up like that?” He huffed, then dug his hand into his hair and put his elbows on the table, his voice dropping to a mumble as he glowered at the book again. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Shoutin’ at'cha. And all this. I just wanted your birthday to be special, and all I did was drag you to my shoebox apartment and accidentally got you to help me study.”

Sanzo heaved a sigh, then planted his hands on Goku’s shoulders. “This is special. I’ve never done this before, so it’s different.”

Goku dared to tip his head up to look up at Sanzo, meeting his eyes for the first time in a while. “Huh?”

“I’ve had birthday dinners and been celebrated twenty-four times in my life, even though this day is just another day to me.” He squeezed Goku’s shoulders. “I prefer quiet things like this. It’s different from what I usually do. That’s something special.” Then, he pinched Goku’s cheeks. “It’d be better if you’d stop bitching and moaning about it, of course.”

“Ow! Hey!” Goku pushed Sanzo’s arms off and spun out of the chair to his feet. “It’s special, I got it. Next year, I’ll just take you to a library or something.” He considered Sanzo with a mischievous little smile. “Or maybe we could go up the mountain for a picnic, with just us. It’s quiet up there.”

“We’ll see what happens next year, next year.” Sanzo crossed his arms. In the here and now, this was fine. Concerns about Goku’s horrible little apartment and suddenly obvious state of poverty could wait, as could questions about just how far Goku would go to please him. “You said there were cupcakes?”

There were two cupcakes in a Mille-Feuille and Flowers box, one with a strawberry in the top, and one that was plain vanilla. Sanzo made a mental note to box Hakkai’s ears for cooperating with Goku’s silly plan, even as Goku offered him his choice. Sanzo couldn’t ignore Goku staring at the strawberry with fierce desire, and let him have it and took the vanilla for himself. “None for your roommate?”

“He hates sugar.” Goku turned to Nataku and waved his cupcake at him. “Hey, you wouldn’t want one of these, would'ja?”

Nataku didn’t take his headphones off or look twice. “That frosting looks like death.”

Goku spun right back around to Sanzo. “He hates sugar, see.”

Sanzo had to make an effort not to snort at the two of them. With Nataku’s deadpan tone and straightforward nature, he was starting to understand Goku’s taste in people, if nothing else. He peeled the paper back, then watched Goku expectantly. “No candles? No singing?”

“Do you want 'em?”

Sanzo pulled a face. “No.” He knew Koumyou had twenty-five candles ready for him, with a twenty-sixth for good luck, and he would insist that every single one of them be placed in his dessert somehow and that as many people as possible would sing at the restaurant. “You can sing with everyone else when my parents take us out.”

“Okay!” With that, Goku chowed down, eating the strawberry first. Sanzo knew he was smiling at least a little. There was that enthusiasm again. Despite himself, Sanzo was coming to be a fan of it.

Goku offered to walk Sanzo to his car, but insisted on grabbing something first, a rather large nondescript cardboard box. Sanzo assumed it was their recycling, and Goku hefted it down the stairs with surprising ease. Goku kept his voice low in the stairwell: “I’m real glad you came to hang out with me on your special day. I promise I’ll do better next time.”

“I’m not a fan of promises.” Sanzo buttoned his jacket as he walked, and Goku frowned over the box in his hand.

“Yeah, well, what about, um, pinky-swears?”

“What are you, twelve?”

“Out of ten.” Goku stuck his tongue out at Sanzo. “Um, how about oaths?”

“Unless I can see it, I don’t believe it.”

“Ooh, so what about ghosts?”

Sanzo snorted. “That’s different. I’m pretty sure some of my dads’ antique junk is haunted.”

“For serious?” Goku grinned broadly, then shook it off. “No, wait, don’t change the subject!”

“You’re the one who changed the subject, monkeybrains.” Sanzo actually did laugh a little that time, and held the door for him and the big box. Goku held the box gingerly as he passed into the lobby, keeping it from hitting any walls or rattling at all. “Don’t make promises. You have no way of knowing what’s going to happen in the next year.”

“Well, maybe not!“ Goku turned his nose up, pretending to be put out but still smiling. "But there’s a couple things I know for sure!”

“Oh? And what’s that?”

Goku shifted the box to one hand. “For one, I know I’m gonna be a full-blown mechanic. Nothing’s gonna stop me. And two, I know that unless the world goes completely crazy, I’m gonna like you exactly as much as I do now, if not more.”

Sanzo smirked and held the front door open. “Nice caveat.”

“Hey, I might be a monkeybrains, but I still think about stuff.” Goku seemed proud of himself as he carried the box past Sanzo, head held high.

There were no streetlights in the parking lot next to the building, so Sanzo used his phone as a flashlight so he wouldn’t trip on any broken concrete or garbage. Goku seemed used to it, looking past the crumbling sidewalk and focusing on the path to Sanzo’s car. He set the box down on Sanzo’s trunk just as Sanzo unlocked the car. “Hey, uh, so, I didn’t wanna wait for your dads’ dinner, but if you wanna take this home and open it then, that’s okay.”

Sanzo stared at the box. “That’s for me.”

“Uh-huh.” Goku stepped back, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry it’s not wrapped, but I don’t have any wrapping paper or color comics or anything. It’s, uh, technically from me and Gojyo, but mostly me.”

Sanzo slid his fingers into the gap in the top flaps and opened the box a little, and scowled. “Hakkai fed you my Amazon wishlist.”

“He might’ve.”

Sanzo sighed and opened the box all the way to take a good, long look at it: a vinyl record player with an MP3 conversion feature. “You realize this means I’ll have to kill him, right?”

“Nah, don’t.” Goku giggled, then slid his hands under Sanzo’s arms to hug him around the ribs. “I saved up and stuff, and Gojyo helped, and I know you like music. I thought you’d like it.”

Sanzo’s face fell, guilt setting in at that tiny wobble of doubt in Goku’s tone. “I do.” He turned around in Goku’s embrace and carded his fingers through Goku’s hair. “But I don’t need gifts.”

“I wanted to do more. I thought it’d make you happy. I mean, you’re always so grouchy, and that’s fine, but I want you to smile, y'know?” Goku shook his head against Sanzo’s chest. “Are you at least happy?”

Sanzo heaved a sigh and let Goku put his chin on his shoulder. “Yes.” He let Goku squeeze him a little, then eased back, and Goku released him. He bowed his head and kissed him between the eyes, then lower, brushing chastely over his lips. “You did good. I got everything I wanted.”

He hadn’t set out wanting anything, but by the end of the night, he had wanted nothing but this moment.

Goku waited on the curb for him to drive away, and Sanzo watched him in his rearview mirror as he pulled back onto the main road towards the other side of the tracks. It had not been a typical birthday, no, but when it came to Goku, he’d ceased to expect typical. That was absolutely fine with him.

* * *

Nataku took his headphones off as Goku came back in, sitting up. “So, that’s the famous boyfriend, huh?”

“That’s him.” Goku chuckled and hung his coat up, then kicked his shoes off. “He’s something, isn’t he?”

“He’s a piece of work.” Nataku closed the book on his knee and watched Goku swagger into the kitchenette. “I’m okay with him. I’m not so sure how okay he is with us. We’re nothing like him, and he obviously wasn’t prepared for that.”

“Hmm.” Goku twisted his face into an uncomfortable little grimace. He’d seen Sanzo biting back caustic words most of the night, even while he’d been oh-so-patiently coaching him through his math studies. “Well, I think it’s a good sign that he’s not just outright chewing me out for all the stuff bugging him.”

Nataku snorted, crossing his arms as Goku poured some water into a mug and put it into the microwave. “I just don’t want him getting the wrong idea.”

“Eh. It’s only for now, just like I told him.” Goku sighed and yanked his shirt off. Nataku narrowed his eyes at the little bruises showing around the tight white vest Goku wore under his clothes.

“Lots of things are only for now.” He snapped his fingers and pointed at the binder. “How long have you had it on?”

Goku shrugged, and looked down. “Uh – I took it off for two hours after I got home from work and before he got here.” He tugged at it. “So, the total today is around ten hours, but-”

“Off. Mama’ll kill you if you damage your ribs, and if you mess your muscles up, you won’t be able to get top surgery, ever.” Nataku picked his book back up as Goku groaned and started to unhook the binder. “Does he know?”

Goku was quiet as he pulled the binder off, then pulled his shirt back on, hugging his chest for a second, then dusting his hands off. “Not yet,” he mumbled. “Haven’t had a reason to tell him.” He busied himself with the cocoa jar, refusing to make eye contact with Nataku. “I mean, I’ve been a guy since before you met me, and as far as anyone else knows or cares, I am, but…”

“That’s not something you surprise someone with.” Nataku kicked his legs out across the bed, his gaze following Goku as he stirred his drink and shuffled out of the kitchenette without lifting his face. “Maybe not over his actual birthday dinner, but make some time and talk to him about it.” Goku just groaned like a deflating balloon and collapsed onto his futon face-first, barely remembering to put his cocoa on the table before kicking the arm of the sofa.

“It’s not like I’m lying to him. I just haven’t told him the whole truth yet. I’m gonna, I just… it hasn’t come up.” He rolled over and stared at the ceiling. “My boss tried to give me a whole bunch of sex tips. How’m I supposed to tell him half of those don’t apply to me? It’s weird; at home, with Mama, with you, with most everyone, I’m just another guy, but then it comes to this and it starts coming up again that I’m not all the way there.”

“Like you said.” Nataku rolled over. “It’s only for now. Try not to stress out about it, you’ve got a final tomorrow.”

Goku sighed again, then grabbed his pillow from the edge of the bed and stuffed it under his head. He’d done everything he could to make Sanzo’s birthday special, except all the gross stuff Gojyo had told him to do. Or taken him somewhere nice. Or even be a good host. Okay, he’d basically flopped on all fronts, but he’d tried, and Sanzo had still been happy, even if it wasn’t what either of them had expected. Maybe even this – even he, _him_ , his very nature – could be just like that.

“Next year, maybe next year.” Goku dragged his hand over his chest. “It’ll be exactly what he wants.”

Sanzo didn’t believe in promises, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t promise himself. Things were going to change, to get better. That was what life was, wasn’t it? Every birthday meant a new year to improve. Sanzo was fine the way he was, but Goku knew he could do better for him.

“Next time. Soon.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will discuss today's big reveal in liner notes, to be posted on my Tumblr page. Look me up there as ezra-blue (if you don't follow me already!), especially because I've been posting new chapters of this on Tumblr a few days before they pop up on here. (I usually give them an editing run before posting them here, though, so what you see here is the definitive version. Make of that what you will!)
> 
> Of course, as always, I would appreciate your opinions and comments here.


	19. Family Comes Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Christmas approaches, Hakkai and Gojyo make plans around their Christmas rush, and Gojyo gets some surprising good news. What could possibly disrupt the happy holiday season?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So begins the holiday arc! 
> 
> ... Fair warning, this chapter contains verbal abuse. It's going to be that kind of holiday arc. Enjoy!

**19: Family Comes Together**  

It was weird for Gojyo to think of this as a good-night call, because no matter what he told himself (in bed by ten tonight, promise!), he usually was up ‘til eleven or midnight, watching the late-night shows and picking away at balancing the books. Hakkai, however, was in bed by nine so he could be up by three-thirty and out the door by ten of four. Gojyo was fine with turning off Wheel of Fortune to say good-night to his very favorite person at eight-thirty, especially since the big holiday rush had the pair of them running circles.

“I can’t believe I haven’t done more than pass by your door in a week,” Hakkai sighed. Gojyo found himself groaning at the thought.

“Has it been a week? I barely even know what day it is anymore.”

Hakkai giggled. “Perhaps if you had more days off to look forward to, you’d be able to keep track better.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Gojyo shifted and rolled his shoulders back into his chair, then put his ledger book aside. “Maybe in spring, I’ll hire another tech. Right now, I ain’t got time to do interviews and stuff, I’d definitely screw it up.”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine, but it would be nice for you to hire someone else. You could cut your hours a little. I do worry, you know.”

“I know.” Hakkai had expressed it many times, and Gojyo had acknowledged it just as many, but Gojyo wasn’t sure there was really all that much he could do about it right now. “But I’m okay.”

“If you’re sure. Ah, I should tell you: I spoke with Sanzo’s father, Koumyou, today. He’s invited the two of us to something of a holiday lunch banquet.”

“Did he?” Gojyo remembered Sanzo mentioning that his parents had wanted to do that. “So, him, Sanzo’s other dad, you, me, Sanzo, Goku?”

“Yes, precisely. Lunch on Christmas Eve. I know it’s a Saturday, but the bakery will be closing early anyway. Do you think you could leave work to come?”

“Hell yeah, of course, wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Gojyo grinned at the thought. “Ain’t nobody gonna give me crap closing my doors early the day before a big holiday.”

Hakkai laughed softly, smothering it behind the receiver. “I should hope not. I am quite eager for you to meet them. Koumyou was like an uncle to me after my grandmother passed away, almost like a second father. I’m honestly embarrassed I fell out of contact with him for so long, and I’m glad to be in his circle again. I’m so eager for him to meet you! Koumyou’s going to adore you, I just know it!”

“I hope so.” Gojyo turned in his sling chair again and kicked his feet onto his coffee table, thinking over what Hakkai had said. “Hey, uh, you said it was your grandma that passed? Uh, if it’s okay to ask, what happened to your folks? Did you have a mom and dad?”

Hakkai didn’t answer, static crackling down the line. Gojyo quickly backpedaled: “Only if you wanna say, you don’t–”

“No, it’s fine. I haven’t thought about… Er, my father was involved in some sort of car accident when I was nine. My mother… I was only told she was very ill.” Hakkai was quiet again. “I don’t remember her face, only visiting her gravesite occasionally. After my father’s death, my grandmother, my father’s mother, raised my sister and I in her home until the year we turned fifteen, at which point she, too, passed away.”

“Jeez.” Gojyo traced a worn spot in his pants, frowning to himself. “I’m real sorry. But, uh, Koumyou helped you out?”

“Mhm.” Hakkai sighed a little. “Koumyou was kind enough to help keep us out of the foster care system and give us access to our trust funds, but we were mature enough to take care of ourselves in the home our grandmother left to us. He and his partner did mind for our welfare, of course, and we did spend a great deal of time with them after we were orphaned.”

“Yeah?” Gojyo frowned. “It’s good they were there for you. I swear, I’ll be on my best behavior, and show 'em you made a good choice in me.”

Hakkai chuckled again, very softly. “I believe you. You’re much more charming than you give yourself credit for… if you want to be, of course.”

“Yeah, well.” Gojyo snorted, then gathered his courage. “And, uh, do you have plans for Christmas Day yet?”

“Not yet. I suppose I could come up with something, of course.” Hakkai’s voice sparked with mischief. “Do you think you’d be amenable to celebrating with me?”

“You know it. Maybe we can talk more as it gets closer?” He glanced at the clock. “It’s someone’s bedtime, y'know.”

Hakkai gasped. “Drat, so it is. We can talk about our little plans tomorrow.”

“Definitely. Good talkin’ to ya, babe.”

“Same to you. Sleep well. We’ll talk again soon.” There was a wealth of emotion in those common little words, and Gojyo could feel the ambient warmth of Hakkai’s smile.

“Yeah, soon. Good night.” He listened for Hakkai to hang up, then mouthed it into the receiver: “Love ya, babe.”

One of these days, he’d actually say those words to him. He’d just decided it wasn’t going to be over the phone. Not for the first time.

But soon, damn it. He wasn’t this pathetic. Hakkai deserved to know how he felt, just as much as he deserved to tell, and just as much as he wished Hakkai would say it first.

It would have been nice to hear it.

* * *

The big rush before Thanksgiving had returned with gusto as December set in, with older people coming to winterize their cars (new tires, oil change, the works) and college students preparing to go home again. Gojyo had been swamped with work since the first appointments had showed up, with cars in two bays. He’d even had to turn away walk-ins. He was just lucky to have Lirin there to help with check-in and check-out, and Goku wheeling around the room doing quickie oil changes or light replacements, getting the easy customers in and out as fast as he could, and helping Gojyo in any way he could.

“Yo, boss, you said you needed pliers, right?” Goku had scaled the peg wall, and held up a rubber-handled set from where he balanced on the dowels. Gojyo looked up from the fixture he was working on, some fried wires that had disabled the headlight on a black luxury sedan, and whistled.

“Hey, down from there!” Goku shrugged his shoulders but jumped the ten feet to the floor.

“I couldn’t reach!”

“You gotta be careful, monkeywrench.” Gojyo gingerly put the wiring he’d been holding down and took the pliers from Goku, turning them over in his hand. “You could hurt yourself. Worse, you could damage my tools, or one of the cars.”

Goku lightly headbutted Gojyo’s arm. “You’re the tool!”

“Pfft, whatever.” Gojyo grinned and mussed his hair. “Just, you gotta be careful, okay? This ain’t your first day on the job, you ought'a know by now.” He swaggered back to the car he was working on and busied himself at fixing the headlight again.

It seemed like it was going to be a typical day, until Lirin broke the relative stillness with a squeal from the front office.

“Hey! Gojyo! Gojyogojyogojyo!” She bolted into the room, heels clicking on the concrete, skirt swishing, bangles jingling, and bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. “Check your phone! Check your phone, stupid! Yaone just sent both of us a text!”

“Huh?” Gojyo craned his neck around to his phone sitting on the work bench, with its light blinking. “Is something wrong?”

“No! Just look!”

Gojyo put the light he was working on down and went to pick up his phone. Yaone had sent a text message, but when he opened it up, there was just a weird, grainy picture of what looked like an olive against a cloudy sky. “Uh.” He scratched his head. “So, she took up abstract photography?”

“Moron!” Lirin waved her phone at him, as Goku sidled up to Gojyo’s arm and peered at the screen. “Scroll up!”

Gojyo saw that she’d sent a message before it: _“You two need to meet someone.”_ Then the photo.

“Gojyo.” Lirin grabbed his arm. “Yaone’s been sick. She’s been puking in the morning and whenever she tries to cook, and she says her boobs are sore, and so she went to the doctor today, and–”

Both of their phones chimed, as Yaone sent a follow up message: _“I’m ten weeks! We’re due in late June/early July. We’re so excited! Don’t tell anyone else yet!”_

“I’m gonna be an auntie!” Lirin squealed, and threw her arms around Gojyo. Gojyo didn’t shake her off, his jaw hung slack as he read the message a few times. Then he looked at the picture again, and this time, he could make out the funny little shape inside of the olive, like a little bean with the profile of a face.

“I’m gonna be an uncle,” he concluded after a second, and found himself grinning, as big and broad as he could. “I’m gonna be an uncle!”

“Step-uncle!” Lirin ceased hugging Gojyo to punch his shoulder. “Kou’s definitely the baby-daddy, so your bro’s gonna be like, the step-dad, or something!”

“How do you know?”

Lirin 'hmph'ed and put her hands on her hips. “Cause it’s got Kou’s nose.”

“It’s a blob. It doesn’t – you know, that doesn’t even matter.” Gojyo smiled helplessly. “We’re gonna be uncles! Or aunts! Whatever!”

“That is so cool!” Goku crowed, and Gojyo spun around on him.

“Oh, shit, hey, can you pretend you don’t know?”

“It’s just in case something happens. Y'know. To the baby.” Lirin folded her arms and nodded sagely. “You’re not supposed to tell people until you’re a couple months in, but we’re family, so we gotta know!”

“Sure, whatever.” Goku shrugged, then punched Gojyo’s other arm. “That’s just super cool, though!”

“Goddamn right it is,” Goku chuckled, swatting lightly back at Goku, then returned to the car he’d been working on with a bounce in his step. “I can’t even imagine my brother having a kid. Shit. Goku, grab me one of the smaller wrenches, will ya?”

Lirin hummed, rocking on her heels as Goku bounded past her to find the tool he wanted. “So does that mean you’ll maybe start talking to him again?” Gojyo grunted, though it was as much because he was struggling to strip the wire as anything else. “C'mon, you know he’s sorry.”

“Sorry’s one thing. Actually regretting what he did is another. I’ll see, okay?” He sighed as he got the wire free and looped it around the new connector. “Goku, the wrench!”

Lirin groaned and stomped back out, loudly grumbling something about 'stubborn dumb idiot Uncle Gojyo,’ and Goku snickered as he rejoined Gojyo, holding a few wrenches.

“Didn’t know which one ya meant. Still, that really is way cool. Congrats, dude.”

“Yeah.” Gojyo smiled without taking his eyes off of the wirework. “Thanks, kid. Now, start pretending you don’t know.”

“Pfft! If anyone asks, of course I won’t tell 'em, but it’s just you and me, c'mon! We’re bros!” He punched Gojyo’s arm again, and Gojyo’s arm jerked, ripping the wire he was holding out of the socket and exposing the live wire. Gojyo instinctively dropped the light ensemble, and the plastic pieces shattered on the concrete floor.

All of the elation was sucked out of the room at once, as both Goku and Gojyo stared at the broken light. “Oh…” Goku clapped his hands over his mouth. “I’m sorry! I wasn’t thinking! I was just–”

“Hey.” Gojyo grabbed Goku’s shoulders and made him face him. “Calm down. It’s a mistake. You got excited and you got a little careless, it happens. Breathe.” He could see him starting to hyperventilate, but he held Goku’s gaze. “Look at me. I ain’t mad at'cha. Big breath in, slow breath out.” He breathed slowly, and Goku matched him after a few seconds. “It’s okay. I’m gonna do some research and order that part so we can replace it, I’ll talk to the customer, and we’re gonna comp this service for him.” He smiled and deliberately rolled his eyes. “Hell, for all we know, we might'a had to order the part anyway, who knows if I was gonna get it working again? Just, next time, be more careful, okay?”

Goku sucked in another breath, and nodded hard. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“I know you are, kid. Go on and sweep up, I’m gonna find and order the part.” Gojyo got the VIN off of the dashboard and went to the office, as Goku rushed off to get a broom and dustpan. When he came back, though, he couldn’t help but look to see the name on the car’s tag:

_“T. Sanzo.”_

“Oh no.”

Goku saw Toudai Sanzo come in a few hours later, and hid behind the wall that divided the shop front from the garage itself. Gojyo hadn’t said a word to him about the broken light, instead working relatively quietly and lightly joshing with Goku over their tasks, but when Lirin told him the owner of 'that car’ was here, he heaved a deep sigh and wiped his hands off. “I’m on my way.” Goku dared to peer around the corner as if to make sure that was Toudai, and it was, and he looked as stern and forbidding as ever. Goku couldn’t force himself to look away as Gojyo fixed his ponytail as he went through the door and dusted his palms on the legs of his coveralls, then approached Toudai.

“Mr. Sanzo, is it?” Gojyo chuckled a little. Small world. “My name’s Gojyo, I’m the owner, manager, and lead mechanic here.” Gojyo extended his hand, but Toudai didn’t take it. Instead, he slowly looked him over, eyes narrow.

“I am Mr. Sanzo, yes. Is there some problem?”

“Unfortunately, there is.” Gojyo folded his arms. “We weren’t able to fix your light.” There was a weird spark that ran through Toudai, like a snap of lightning, and his body language stiffened in an instant.

“I spoke with you on the phone, and you assured me-”

“Sir, I was relatively certain I could.” Gojyo could feel Toudai’s irritation already. “Thing is, in this particular sort of work, unpredictable things happen, and your light is beyond repair.”

“Unpredictable things?” Toudai drew himself up, and Gojyo had the faint realization that this guy looked old, but at some point in his life, he’d been ripped. Probably could do a lot of damage, if he felt like it. “What does that mean?”

Gojyo took a breath, bracing himself. “It means there was an accident on the shop floor and the fixture was damaged beyond repair. However, I have taken the liberty of ordering the part, and your service will be compensated in full–”

“Damaged?” Toudai ground his teeth together. “My car was nearly new!”

“I understand that, but–”

“I need my car, you, you, you scoundrel!” Toudai advanced on Gojyo, but Gojyo held his ground. Goku, however, noticed him tighten his hands where they gripped his forearms, the cross of his arms drawing close. He braced for Gojyo to turn around and blame him, but Gojyo was steadfast even as Toudai continued to shout. “First that _quack_ doctor, and now you’re giving me bad news! Accidents, 'unpredictable,’ what kind of professional are you?”

Gojyo took another breath. “I’m really sorry about this, sir, but accidents can happen to anyone–”

“Well, why did it happen to my car?!” Toudai put his foot down. “This is inexcusable! I’ll have you know your work was highly recommended to me, and you pull this?”

“I made a mistake.” There was an edge in Gojyo’s voice now; he couldn’t help it. “I get that you’re stressed about it, but try to understand–”

“What I understand, young man, is that you were careless with my car and caused damage to it, and now you’re trying to sweet-talk your way out of trouble! Charlatan!”

“Sir, I’m tellin’ ya, I’m doing everything in my power to make this right.” Gojyo started to number it off on his hands: “I rush ordered the replacement – and I’m gonna be honest, the original was pretty well fried before it got broken. It’ll be here tomorrow. Your car’s the top of my list. I’ll have your car within an hour of receiving the part. I’m comping the service completely – no charge for parts, labor, anything. I’ll even get you a rental car, mister, there’s not much more I can do.”

Toudai huffed, but Goku saw his hands shaking. There was a mix of anger and exhaustion in the bend of his brow and the bags under his eyes, Goku could practically taste his fury. “You think you have all the answers. Young people these days, so careless! Take it from me, you keep making mistakes and you’ll be out of business in a year, flat on your back with nothing! Overambitious, is what you are; you can’t be more than twenty, and you’re screwing yourself over and leaving for others to clean up your mess!” Gojyo bit his tongue, and Goku had seen Gojyo get chewed out by customers before, but not like this. Usually, he stood there and took it, every time, but Goku could see his eyes glazing over and his focus setting into a thousand-yard stare. He tried to muster up the will to intervene, but he couldn’t.

What if Sanzo found out he was the screw-up Toudai was talking about?

Gojyo finally took a deep breath, and spoke in measured, controlled, flat tones. “I understand why you’re upset. Like I said, I’m gonna make this right. I’ll call a car service for ya now.”

“Ha. You worthless lowlife, do you think I need your charity?” Toudai leered at Gojyo, but Goku saw him flinch, and saw his hardened mask twitch for a split second into devastation. He recovered, hardening his expression again.

“I’m sorry. S'just a courtesy, mister. I’m sorry.”

“You best be!” Before Toudai could get another line off, Gojyo pivoted around to Lirin.

“Lirin, call Enterprise for Mister Sanzo here, see if you can’t get him picked up and put into a car just like what he’s driving. Put it on my account. I’ve got cars waiting.” Gojyo glanced back over at Toudai, but couldn’t make eye contact. “S'been a pleasure doin’ business.”

Toudai was about to wind up into another tantrum, but Gojyo strode into the garage and shut the door to the shop behind him. Lirin expertly ignored Toudai as he chewed her out. Goku caught words like “unprofessional,” “smart-aleck,” and “disrespectful,” but Gojyo’s sigh overrode it all.

“I’m gonna have to do some extra to make up for the loss on that.” He was already digging into his toolbox. “Tomorrow, I’ll open the third bay.”

Goku’s jaw fell agape, and he tugged the sleeve of Gojyo’s coveralls. “You mean take more cars? Gojyo, you’re swamped with the work you already got.”

“I’ll let you help if you promise to be careful, but I can do more and do better.” He suddenly put his fist down on the table next to his toolbox. “I’m better'n this.” He stalked away, tools in hand, his bangs falling over his eyes to cloak his expression, and Goku watched helplessly as he trudged to the next car in his queue. Goku heard Lirin groan.

“Aw, man, that guy hurt the dumb idiot’s dumb idiot feelings.” Goku scowled as he turned to face her, but she shook her head and clicked her tongue. “I’m gonna call his big brother. Make sure he doesn’t do anything dumb.”

“What?” Goku pivoted to face her fully, but Lirin lifted her shoulders in a shrug.

“It’s a thing. He gets all weird when people are mean to him. What a giant baby.” Lirin pranced back to the desk, nose turned up, but Goku spun back to Gojyo. There was a hard line in his stance now, his motions stiff, like he was being moved on strings or wires. Like he wasn’t human.

Gojyo’s phone went off, and Goku saw Hakkai’s name on the alert screen. He scrambled to grab it and ran over to Gojyo, holding it out as Gojyo jacked the next car up on to the lift. “Hey, it’s Hakkai! He’s probably checkin’ in on ya, maybe you ought'a message him a little?”

Gojyo stilled in motion, but sighed again, then shook his head. “Later, kid. I gotta work.”

Goku stared, dumb, even as the phone screen went dark and the image of Hakkai’s smile vanished. He swallowed, then put Gojyo’s phone back on the bench. “Fine. Just tell me what you need me to do.”

Goku couldn’t fathom Gojyo’s sudden angst, but he had the bad feeling it was his fault and he had no idea what he could do to fix it.

It had been such a typical day. How quickly things could turn, like the bitter sting of a winter wind.


	20. And To All A Good Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hakkai and Goku are both worried about Gojyo in the wake of the incident, but neither of them realize just how worried they should be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for references to canon-typical child abuse.

**20: And To All A Good Night**

It wasn’t cold enough for snow yet, but the smoky sky was spilling chilly, thick drizzles every other afternoon, and Hakkai knew it was making him melancholy. Still, there was work to be done, Christmas cookies to decorate, pies to bake, cakes to decorate, trays of mini-tarts and tiny pastries to fill, and he was sure Gojyo was just as busy.

Even so, an occasional returned text would have been nice. He found himself constantly waiting for his phone to blink, looking up from the tray of cookies in front of him just in case he’d missed it. He’d even tried to call him for a good-night conversation for the past five nights, and Gojyo had only picked up once:

“Hello, G’s Auto–”

“Gojyo, it’s me.” Hakkai had frowned at his pillow – Gojyo sounded out of breath, and his voice echoed behind him. “I was calling to say good night. Are you still at work?”

Gojyo was quiet on his end of the line for a moment. “Uh, yeah. I, uh, got all my walk-ins done, but there’s a bunch of bigger projects I gotta finish, so I’m pulling a late night.”

“Oh, Gojyo.” Hakkai looked to the slippers and robe in his closet, and wondered what the etiquette was for driving to one’s boyfriend’s workplace and dragging him to bed while wearing one’s pajamas. “Has it been that busy?”

“Past few nights, yeah. I’m…” Gojyo’s voice broke. “I’ve been working hard.”

Hakkai puzzled at that, and found his fingers gripping the phone tighter. “You sound so tired. Can it wait until the morning? I haven’t seen you, and I miss you. I’ll come pick you up. You can sleep here with me. You sound like you could really use some rest.” Gojyo didn’t reply, but Hakkai heard him breathing. “Gojyo?”

“I can’t. I’m sorry. There’s just too much to do, and I gotta keep my customers happy, right? I miss you, too, so much, but I gotta keep in business. After all, why would you wanna be with some jobless slob?”

Hakkai found himself come up short, and his voice came out small: “Gojyo?” Gojyo didn’t talk like this. Gojyo laughed with self-deprecation sometimes, but he’d never been so serious about it.

“S-sorry.” Gojyo's voice was a little ragged. “I’m gonna go, but sleep well, okay? I… I miss you.”

“I… you, too. Please call me tomorrow night.”

“I will if I can. Tomorrow… tomorrow’s gonna be busy too.” Gojyo sounded grim at that. “See ya soon. G'night.”

“Yes, I do hope so. Good night.” Hakkai waited for Gojyo to hang up, but he could have sworn he heard Gojyo say something he couldn’t make out just before he hung up.

That was the last he’d heard from Gojyo for a few days. There were a few texts back and forth, quick things, and Gojyo was only giving short answers. He hadn’t heard his voice. Even when he’d walked past the garage, or put his head in, he only saw Goku. He’d left coffee or treats, but when Goku had tried to get Gojyo, he’d return and say that Gojyo was under a car and that he was grateful for the coffee, but couldn’t take a break.

He didn’t feel like drawing smiles on Santa-shaped cookies after that. He wasn’t at all feeling in the holiday spirit. In fact, it seemed like none of his friends were. Goku had been tense and fidgety when he’d seen him, and Sanzo had remained Sanzo.

“You look like someone crushed your toe.” Sanzo was at his bench, and Hakkai glanced up to see him frowning over at him. “Is that moron still incommunicado?”

“He… he’s been busy.” Hakkai sighed and put his piping bag down. “I had assumed this season would be busy, but I didn’t think we would both be busy to the point that we wouldn’t be able to talk or see each other.”

“Yeah. Sucks.” Sanzo set his hands on his hips. “I haven’t seen Goku much, either. He’s had finals and he’s been working, and when we do talk, he’s stressed and tired. I offered to help him, but he rebuffs me, so there’s not much you can do.”

“I – I just… did I do something wrong?” Hakkai put his hand on his face. His skin was still rough from overwashing, but it was no substitute for the lack of Gojyo’s warm, callused palm brushing over his skin. “Maybe I said something the last time we talked. I don’t know what it could have been, but I feel he’s completely withdrawn from me. I can’t stand the thought of him being upset with me.”

“He’s busy. Don’t make more of it than it is.” Sanzo exhaled through his nose. “You could be obnoxious and just demand he come out and talk to you.”

“I … no, I wouldn’t want to draw him from his work if he really is so busy.” Hakkai sighed and took up his piping bag. “I’ll just … keep trying, and be patient.”

“Good.” Sanzo exhaled again. “If nothing else, you’ll see him at my parents’ holiday thing. Maybe that’ll cheer Toudai up.”

“Oh?” Hakkai raised his brow with curiosity. “Did something happen?”

Sanzo huffed and crossed his arms, his gaze shifting away, and muttered, “He got bad news. He’s been upset about it for the past few days. I’m not explaining here,” he cut in quickly, shaking his head. “But it’s bad. Koumyou’s been trying to cheer him up, but he’s hoping that seeing you and Goku for the holidays will raise Toudai’s spirits.”

“Ah. Yes.” Hakkai nodded. He knew seeing Gojyo would certainly ease his burden. Perhaps his snowflakes would look a little brighter, and Santa’s smile wouldn’t come off so wobbly. “It’ll be nice.”

“Yeah. It’ll be Christmas soon. C'mon. Feasts. Egg nog. Presents.” Sanzo gave Hakkai a significant look. “The rush will end.”

“Yes.” Hakkai smiled at that, and took up his piping bag. “I suppose I’ll simply make the best of it until it’s over.”

“Well, we’re doing gangbusters this month; we’ve nearly surpassed our profits for the entirety of the summer quarter in just these last three weeks. If we do have a slow season, this will keep us healthy.”

“Mm. Good.” Hakkai continued to work without looking up, his smile held fast in place. Sanzo pulled a face.

“You could pretend to be happier. Maybe when you actually get your stupid Christmas presents, you’ll get in the holiday spirit.”

Hakkai kept smiling as Sanzo left the bakeshop, and trucked through his task. Maybe if he left some happy cookies for Gojyo, he would smile too. He hadn’t seen that smile in what felt like so long, he was starting to feel a little desperate, the same kind of desperate that would drive him to reinvent mille feuille and make it every day just to make sure one special person could have a piece.

“Maybe I should start leaving him better sweets,” he sighed to himself, and worked on to make other people’s Christmases warm and bright. His only got colder with every lonesome afternoon and every chilly splash of cold rain.

* * *

The coffee Hakkai left on the counter for Gojyo went cold before Goku forced himself to drink it. The chocolate at the bottom was good, but he mostly tasted the coffee. At least the pastries were always good, but Hakkai’s pastries simply were, and Goku was sure he tasted a little extra care in the ones Hakkai left for Gojyo. At least someone was tasting them. Gojyo hadn’t.

The first time Hakkai had stopped by to see Gojyo, Goku had run back to get him. “Hey, Hakkai’s here. Wanna come talk to him?” Gojyo, listless but focused on his work like a sniper on a target, hummed blankly without pulling his head from under the car hood he was working on. “Hey, did you hear me?”

“Huh?” Gojyo did look up now, and Goku nearly flinched to meet his eyes. His face was drawn with deep lines; he looked like he hadn’t slept. He may not have, because Goku knew he’d stayed until midnight the first night after he opened the third bay, but was still there at six the next morning to open the doors again. He shook himself awake. “Uh, yeah. Hakkai.” His face fell. “I, uh, shouldn’t stop now. Tell him I’m sorry.” He put his head down and kept working, and Goku cringed like he’d gotten a stomach cramp. Hakkai’s disappointment when Goku passed Gojyo’s message on was palpable and even more painful.

Goku had left the tart for Gojyo, but it went ignored on the work bench, until Gojyo finally noticed it and asked Goku if he wanted it. Goku hadn’t, but he tried so hard to convince Gojyo that Gojyo definitely did.

“Mm, yeah, Hakkai must'a been thinkin’ of you while he was making it.” He licked his lips after swallowing the first bite. “It’s so good. You sure you don’t want any? It’s super tasty.”

It was no use. Gojyo ignored him, staring into the engine he was working on forlornly, making every effort not to watch as Goku ate the treat Hakkai had sent.

Lirin had apparently called Gojyo’s brother to tell him that he’d gotten dressed down by a customer on an epic scale. She’d passed his message on to Goku: “He says he knows Gojyo won’t talk to him, but he should break out of this stupid funk after a little bit. Just, since you’re here more than me, try to make sure he eats.”

Goku hadn’t seen Gojyo eat since then. No lunch breaks. No coffee. Not even water. Jien sure knew his little brother. Goku tried to push cups of water on him, and he’d take sips, then bury himself back under his work. As if he could just drown in it and forget that his body needed air, food, water, friendship.

Goku was losing his appetite too. Knowing that his stupid, stupid mistake had sent Gojyo into this awful drift made him feel nauseous every time it went through his head. He was having more trouble keeping it out of his mind, too. Trying to study, trying to help, trying to take care of his own life, it was all interrupted with jags of guilt.

He could barely bring himself to talk to Sanzo. He wanted to, so much, but he knew his stupid mouth would run and he’d quickly be admitting the whole thing, how he’d messed up and Gojyo took the fall, and how Sanzo’s dad was gonna hate him when he found out the truth. Goku didn’t know how he was going to handle that, no more than he knew how to help Gojyo. Telling Hakkai would be just the same, and just as dangerous. The most he could do was hint that Gojyo was stressed, but Hakkai was busy too. He wasn’t sure who else Gojyo talked to, if anyone. Who else was going to fix this?

Why hadn’t Lirin told him how to break Gojyo out of this? There had to be something he could do other than watch his friend, someone who’d taken care of him and treated him like a brother, go through this!

There was no solution, and it had been five freaking days! It was all just a big stupid mess, and Goku was starting to get scared that unless he actually did give up the ghost and tell Toudai he was the one who’d messed up and take that burden off of Gojyo, Gojyo wouldn’t forgive himself. Would even that convince Gojyo he didn’t have to do that to himself? Goku had no idea, and it was going to drive him up the wall.

The only thing he knew was that Gojyo shouldn’t be alone. It wasn’t like Gojyo had noticed he was here on his day off.

* * *

Food was like ash. Water felt like acid. Love felt like nothing.

_Worthless lowlife, huh?_

He was better than this. He could do better. He wasn’t that stupid nothing he’d been when he was little. Gojyo was determined to prove that, if not to that old jackass who’d shouted him down, then to everyone.

He was fine doing all this work. Sure, his hands hurt and his head hurt and his eyes hurt after this long, but this was fine. This was perfectly fine. Hakkai was probably worried, but he shouldn’t be. Gojyo was used to working long days, what was a little longer?

_not worth worrying about anyway_

He didn’t see customers, but Goku and Lirin told him they were all happy. Hopefully his work wouldn’t slip, even now that he couldn’t feel the cold metal of the wrench in his grip or see the bolt he was looking for. Had he loosened all of the screws? He couldn’t remember, but he had to. He couldn’t mess up again. Careless. Stupid.

“ _You filthy little moron!”_

This was what good people did. This was what he was supposed to do. Who cared if he didn’t sleep? What did it matter if his chest and stomach ached?

“ _Like anyone gives a shit!”_

He was good. Didn’t matter what anyone said. He’d prove it.

“ _Rotten piece of shit”_

When was the last time he’d eaten? He’d seen food, food he knew was for him and would be good, but he knew he wouldn’t taste it; thinking about it made him sick.

“ _Only good boys get to eat.”_

He couldn’t think about anything but being _good_ , being _right_ , not being _worthless_ , and if he worked hard and did a good job, maybe he’d believe it or maybe someone else would believe it and tell him and he’d be alright, he’d be okay. It wouldn’t have to be this much. It wouldn’t have to be this hard. He could let himself have the things he wanted and be happy because he _deserved_ it.

_I’m so tired._

Believe him. Believe him. He’d work harder. He’d be better.

_I’m so tired._

Hakkai would believe him. He would love him. Someone would love him.

_please_

He couldn’t think of anything else.

_I’m so fucking tired._

He couldn’t think.

_Hakkai…_

He couldn’t see the engine in front of him. His hands wouldn’t move. He was so fucking tired.

_Maybe I can rest for just a second._

He heard the tools rattling as they hit the ground, heard Goku screaming, but he had to close his eyes.

_I’m sorry._

* * *

Sanzo heard his phone ringing, saw Goku’s name and number on the screen, and stepped back from the counter to answer. “This is S–”

“SANZO!” Goku was screaming, and Sanzo plugged his ear and thrust the phone away from his ear. “Sanzo, I gotta talk to Hakkai, it’s Gojyo – I dunno what to do! I called 911–”

“Slow down!” Sanzo swung between frustration at his  “Why the f— 911? Goku, what’s going on!”

“It’s Gojyo! He passed out!”

Sanzo rushed into the kitchen and held the phone out to Hakkai over his bench. Goku was babbling: “He wasn’t talking, he just kept going, but all of a sudden he just fell and knocked stuff over and I called an ambulance and he woke up but he’s confused and he puked and passed out again and I think his head is bleeding and I don’t know what to do–”

Hakkai had stared, wide-eyed, but at that he grabbed the phone. “Goku, what happened?”

The siren of an ambulance howled past the door, and Goku gasped. “They’re here!” He dropped the phone with a clatter, and Hakkai turned to Sanzo, searching his face for answers. Sanzo’s expression was stoic but serious.

“He said Gojyo collapsed. Go.”

Hakkai hurried to rearrange the kitchen to cover his tasks and bolted out the back door, still pulling his winter coat to brace against the gales that whipped against his skin and the dark, clouded sky. He got to the garage just in time to see Gojyo being wheeled out on a gurney by EMTs,  his eyes barely open, his mouth slack, his body limp. A thin trail of blood was running down his face. Hakkai’s chest seized, and he ran to Gojyo’s side. An EMT blocked his path. “Sir, I need you to stay back, we’re taking this man-”

“Tell me where. He’s my boyfriend. I’ll follow.” Gojyo seemed to rouse when he spoke, and his dilated pupils tilted to focus on him.

“Hakkai,” he rasped, and flopped a limp hand towards him. “M'sorry.”

“Oh, no.” Hakkai tried to take his hand, but the EMTs lifted him into the ambulance and out of his reach. Anger burned through him, and flared when one of the men said something about putting gloves on. He swallowed it with force, and pivoted to Goku.

He couldn’t be angry with Goku. Goku was standing at the door, shaking in his shoes as he talked to one of the techs. Goku seemed to seize up when Hakkai approached, but Hakkai kept his distance as he waited for Goku to finish with the tech.

“I d'no what else to tell ya.” He hiccuped and shook his head. “He’s just been funny, and this morning he was quiet, and I don’t even know if he went home last night, like, he just forgot he had to stop, and one second he’s staring at an engine, the next there’s this big crash and he’s all over the floor.”

Hakkai’s fists were clenched, and he only knew that because his palms were starting to ache. The tech jumped back into the ambulance and left, and Goku whirled on Hakkai, flailing for a moment as if he wanted to throw his arms around Hakkai and squeeze, but knew Hakkai wouldn’t like it. Hakkai finally squared himself in front of him and clapped his hands on Goku’s forearms. “It’s alright.” He knew from the wobble in his voice that things were very much not alright, but he hoped he could convince Goku of as much. “You said he was strange?” He tried to ignore the EMTs loading back into the ambulance, the doors shutting, the engine turning over. Goku nodded, head bobbing.

“Mister … A customer screamed at him.” Goku’s face fell. “And he just … stopped eating. Worked harder. Stopped talking and smiling, just kept saying, ‘I gotta work, I gotta work.'” Goku sucked in air and sniffled. “I tried! Lirin said Jien said to make him eat, but he wouldn’t!”

“Okay. It’s okay.” He was completely unconvincing and he knew it, as what Goku had said sank in. “It isn’t your fault.”

“Yes it is,” Goku moaned and finally gave up pretending he didn’t need some sort of contact comfort and sank into Hakkai’s chest. Hakkai caught him uneasily and patted his back. “I’m sorry. I should'a told you he was like this, but I was scared you’d be mad.” The ambulance shifted into gear and tore off, sirens wailing again, and without further warning, Goku shoved Hakkai back. “They said they’re taking him to Mountainside General. His brother’s his emergency contact on his health insurance, but you know he’ll want to see you.”

“Yes, but–” Hakkai glanced to the dark garage windows behind him. “The garage. You’re the only one here. What will you do?”

“I dunno, but that’s not important.” Goku sniffled again, and Hakkai couldn’t pretend it was the bitter cold wind rushing into his face that was making his eyes wet. “Just go. I’ll take responsibility. S'what I should'a done before. Please, go take care of that dumb idiot, someone’s gotta.”

Hakkai reached out and gave Goku a genuine hug, squeezing for just a moment before letting go. “I’ll call you and let you know how he is when he wakes. I’ll go now, but I imagine Sanzo might be able to advise you.”

Goku mumbled his thanks, but stood on the sidewalk watching as Hakkai hurried back towards the bakery and to his car. The clouds overhead finally spilled over as he got into his car and put the key in the ignition, and rain pattered onto his windshield as he set off to chase the ambulance.

Every flashing red light only reminded him of the bleak empty expression in Gojyo’s face, framed crimson with the spread of his hair and the blood trickling down his forehead, as he was lifted away. His hand had still been outstretched towards him, just out of his reach.


	21. Our Cracked Ballet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hakkai chases Gojyo to the hospital, only to begin unraveling the history that led Gojyo to where he stands and looking at their next steps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings, again, for canon-typical child abuse, as well as emetophobia and implications of incest.

**21: Our Cracked Ballet**

Hakkai would have driven in through the ambulance entrance, except all of the buses looked alike and he likely would have been turned back. Instead, he went to the front emergency room entrance and went to the first nurse available. The chintzy mint green and pastel pink décor, a relic of the early 90’s likely designed to be calming, only made Hakkai more queasy as he rushed to the reception desk. Fortunately, the only other person waiting at the front desk, a broad-shouldered man with short, dark hair slicked back and a greasy-looking jacket, was already being helped, but the other receptionist was busily tapping at her keyboard. Hakkai cleared his throat, but she didn’t look up. The other man being helped was impatiently drumming his fingers on the counter dividing the reception from the desk, as if he intended to shake loose the dirt under his fingernails, but Hakkai tried to ignore him. The woman finally looked up and raised an eyebrow at him, and Hakkai cleared his throat and spoke aloud. “I’m looking for Gojyo Sha, he was just brought here by ambulance.”

The woman at the other desk looked over to him. “I’ll tell you what I just told him.” She nodded towards the man she was facing, who had spun around to stare at him. “Gojyo Sha’s in triage. Who are you to him?”

“I’m his boyfriend.” Hakkai tightened his stance under the stares of both receptionists and the other man. The grimy man turned to face him, eyebrows knit, and Hakkai fixed him with an icy stare. “Can I help you?”

The man instead extended a hand. “Jien Sha. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I wish it were anywhere but here.”

Hakkai took the other man in, and realized that the man, who stood a head taller than Hakkai and had much broader shoulders, also had the same nose and jawline as Gojyo, though Gojyo had longer lashes and more fascinating eyes. This had to be his brother. “Hakkai Cho.” He took Jien’s thick hand between his palms and shook it. “And yes, anywhere but here.”

Jien was given the paperwork but took it and Hakkai to a seat, then gave the clipboard to Hakkai. “I came straight from work, so I’m still kind of greasy. Mind holding this while I scrub my hands off?” Hakkai shook his head, and Jien dropped his puffy winter coat onto the chair and stalked off to find a bottle of hand sanitizer, and Hakkai wiped the grime Jien had left on his palms on his handkerchief. He should have been more used to a little gunk on his hands, familiar with wiping Gojyo’s cheek off before giving him a kiss hello, but it was different with this strange man and in this strange, horrible place.

The chairs were squeaky vinyl and uncomfortable, but Hakkai slumped into it nonetheless. Jien returned and started on Gojyo’s paperwork his brow still knit up and anxiety tight through his large frame. Hakkai pressed his hands between his knees as Jien focused on the task, and Hakkai took in his details with a curious eye. Jien was built like Gojyo, but taller, thicker, and broader, and a more rugged type of handsome. He wore tension the same way Gojyo did, in his brow and shoulders, and his handwriting was similarly sloppy. He didn’t quite look up from writing to mutter, “They said he passed out at work and might have hit his head pretty good. Guess you don’t know what happened?”

“I don’t, no. His apprentice mentioned that he hadn’t seen him eating, and he may not have been getting enough rest.” Hakkai laced his fingers and lowered his gaze. “I was worried about this the entire time I’ve known him. He works seventy-two hours a week assuming he arrives and leaves at the times he says that he does. It’s too much. If he was pulling more hours, then good grief, he must have completely worn himself out.”

“Yeah?” Jien’s upper lip curled, and he flicked the crosses on his T’s a little more harshly as he continued to write. “I thought so too. I’ve been worried about him since he opened up, and especially since the other mechanic he was with bailed on him and he didn’t hire anyone new.” He heaved a sigh, his hands flattening on the clipboard. “I was glad that asshole was gone, but Gojyo can’t do it himself.”

Something about the way Jien said that rang funny to Hakkai. “I see.” He turned his face to study Jien again. “Goku – the apprentice – said that there was a Lirin–”

“My partner’s little sister, yeah.” Jien smiled, though it was taut and grim. “She wanted a part time job while she was in school, but she didn’t want to work for her ‘loser big bro’s’ garage, and Gojyo was hiring. She basically harassed him until he agreed to hire her. I admit, I kind of use her like a spy nowadays, since Gojyo never talks to me.”

“Yes.” Hakkai’s brow furrowed. “Well, Goku said that she said you told her to make sure he eats.”

Jien stopped scribbling and glanced up to Hakkai. “Guess you need an explanation. Well, someone ought'a tell you, since you’re seeing him and all, and he’s a proud little jerk who wouldn’t want ya to know.” He managed a wry smirk, then continued to fill the forms out. “I’m almost done. I’ll tell ya everything.”

Jien turned the form in and came back, but settled in the chair a little more stiffly than before. “Uh. So.” He cleared his throat. “Gojyo has this… thing. Uh. When we were kids, uh, his folks…”

“His?”

Jien grunted as if the word had hit him. “Uh, yeah. We have the same dad, but different moms. Dad ran off on Mom first, then vanished on Gojyo’s mom, and we ain’t heard from him in more than twenty years. Gojyo’s mom… couldn’t handle raising him alone.” The words rushed past quickly, as if Jien could shovel them away with all their implications. “But uh, he ended up living with me and my mom from around when he was three, but Mom, she… she hated him.” Jien shook his head. “I think she only agreed to take him so she could get revenge on my old man through him. She’d scream at him, smack him around. Came up with excuses to do it; always his fault. He was acting up, talking too loud, annoying her.” Hakkai frowned to think of it; he couldn’t imagine Gojyo as a child, but now he could only imagine the warm, kind, charming man he knew wounded, and it stung him. Jien just crossed his arms and went on. “She lost it a little, after he left, and social welfare wasn’t enough to care for all three of us, she was stressed and a little crazy, but that’s no excuse. I would stop her when I caught her, but I know she would find times to hurt him when I wasn’t there.” Jien sighed and pinched his brow. “She wouldn’t feed him after she beat on him.”

“And you did nothing?” Hakkai balled his fists, but Jien shook his head.

“No. I called CPS. I was sixteen and trying to get emancipated, he was nine and had taken it for six years, and I couldn't take it anymore. When the police took him from school, they told him she’d never be able to hurt him again, and he told them everything.” Jien smiled wearily. “I had told him I would take him away from her, but they said that because I was a minor, I couldn’t, and he would go to foster care. He overheard that, and he freaked. Recanted everything.” Jien sighed again, heavier than before, as if the memories were a massive weight that he still labored under. “So, I testified on his behalf, Mom pleaded out to get probation, and Gojyo still went to foster care until I got out of Mom’s house and got established. He was fifteen when I got him back, and he’d picked up some nasty habits in foster care.”

Hakkai wrung his fingers tight, his knuckles going white. “Not eating.”

“Whenever he gets upset, he loses his appetite. He just stops eating.” Jien sounded incredulous even as he explained it. “When I first got him home, he lost ten pounds because he kept waiting for me to send him back. He'd been living in terror and starving the whole time.” Jien shook his head. “He stops caring for himself; he tricked himself into thinking he wasn’t worth it. I don’t think they took care of him in foster care. I never figured out how to fix it, either. I was scared he’d gone anorexic before, but no, he just said he couldn’t eat.” He drew his hand into a tight fist. “I asked him, the doctors asked him, everyone asked him. When he finally did give an answer, he just muttered something Mom would tell him. 'Only good boys get to eat.'”

The chill that set in Hakkai at that was as hard and bitter as winter, as he came to a terrible realization: Every time Gojyo had opened his mouth to him had almost been a dare for him to yank what he was offering away. It likely had been so many times, and he had trained himself to punish himself because he thought he deserved to be punished.

“He never told me.” Hakkai put his hand to his forehead. “I… I would have been so much gentler with him had I known…”

“He wouldn’t want that.“ Jien sighed and put a hand on Hakkai’s shoulder, but he quickly withdrew. "I tried to put him in therapy. He went for a while, until the therapist told him – and me – he had PTSD, and he got mad that someone was sticking a label on him and trying to head-shrink him. He said he was fine like he was and demanded I believe him.” Hakkai sagged, and Jien slouched, eyebrows knit, face tilted to the floor, his gaze fixed on his knees. “I think he wants to pretend he’s stronger than he is until he actually feels it. Maybe he just needs to heal, but I don’t know how long that could take. I think there’s a lot of him that’s just trying to move past it, but a small part of him that is still rooted in what he went through as a kid. It’s least a little of why me and him don’t talk much right now.” Jien sighed again, and let his face fall into his palms. “He still doesn’t get that I do what I do because I love him.”

Hakkai was about to ask what he meant by that, when a nurse approached, and Jien lifted his head to look at her. She glanced at Hakkai, then addressed Jien. “Mr. Sha, your brother has been put in a recovery room. He had a minor concussion from the fall, and he was dehydrated and showed early signs of starvation." Hakkai felt himself cringe, but tried to force himself to a neutral, but shame passed through him at the thought of anyone he cared about starving. "We’d like to put him on a diet that will wean him off of starvation, and watch him for any symptoms that his head injury is worse than it currently appears or for any signs of refeeding syndrome.”

“It’s fine with me, but he’s an adult. He can make his own decisions once he’s awake enough to do that.” Jien put on a weary smile for the courtesy of the nurse and likely nothing more, Hakkai surmised. “Can I go see him now?”

“Yes, just sign in at the desk.” The nurse then glanced to Hakkai. “He’s allowed one visitor at a time, but you can sign in and wait for Mr. Sha to be finished.”

“Damn. Well, I’m his brother, so I get first dibs, but I’m sure he’ll wanna see you.” Jien slapped Hakkai on the back as he got to his feet. “He told my wife, Yaone, about you, and she said Gojyo turned into a blushing wreck when he had you on his mind.” He chuckled, waiting a step away for Hakkai to smooth his coat down. “Imagine, my idiot little brother blushing. Though, lookin’ at'cha, I can see why.”

“Please don’t call him an idiot where I can hear you.” Hakkai strode past Jien to the sign-in sheet, scrawled his name, grabbed a badge, and stalked down the hall. He had a lot to ask Gojyo about, a collection of conflicting emotions, and clearly, a lot of work to do.

* * *

_“Mom, please.” He remembered holding his hands out in front of him, as she advanced on him. She seemed so big. He didn’t remember her face. She snatched him by the shirt and slapped him across the cheek, then throttled him. Where was Jien? Jien could stop her. Jien got between him and Mom because he loved him, he could talk Mom down, get her into her bedroom, quiet her for a while. “J… Jie…”_

_“Did I tell you you could talk?” She slammed him into the wall, and pain shot down his spine. He tried to push it down to keep his face neutral. He should have learned by now. Try not to react. Don’t let her see that it hurt, she’ll only hurt you worse the next time. Then, her hand was around his throat. “Who fed you? Don’t you lie to me, I can smell it. Did you spread your legs and get someone to put something in your mouth?” He choked under her grip, and she shifted it up to his cheeks, making him gag and nearly swallow his tongue. “Did I tell you you could eat?”_

_He tried to tell her, no, no, they saw me without a lunch and didn’t want me hungry, the lunch lady gave me a cheese sandwich and an apple and I was so hungry and it was just a shitty Kraft slice and two pieces of white bread but it tasted so good, I needed to eat, I needed it, it wasn’t my fault, Mom, please, I’m sorry, but he couldn’t talk. Not with her hand around his throat and face. She dropped him from the wall and before he could get up and run, she kicked him over onto his belly and planted her foot on his back, then bent down over him, gripped his jaw, and forced him to open his mouth._

_“You don’t eat unless you deserve it, you worthless little shit.” He closed his eyes tight because he knew what was coming – Jien, Jien, please stop her! – he barely saw her fingers going down his throat and braced himself but it wouldn’t help, it wouldn’t help, nothing ever helped, and–_

He was awake, Goku was screaming, and everything hurt. For a second, he thought he saw Hakkai, he tried to reach for him, tried to apologize, but then Hakkai was floating away, and he was gone, gone, and everything was dark again.

_Jien was at the door, listening. He had brought Gojyo here because he loved him, because he couldn’t watch anymore. Gojyo’s backside was still sore from Mom’s hand last night, and the cops didn’t even flinch as he tried to tell them everything he could remember._

_“She hits me, when I’m bad, and I try to tell her I’m not bad, but she does it anyway.” He fidgeted with his shirt, twisting his fingers through all the holes and rips in the bottom. Jien had sat him with the cops and the men in suits and told him if he told them the truth about Mom, he wouldn’t have to go back to her, and he loved Mom, you’re supposed to love your Mom, but Mom kept hurting him. He was so tired of being hurt. He could barely remember a time he wasn't hurt. Jien said they were going to be able to get away from Mom forever and he'd never have to hurt again. Still, actually saying everything hurt from the inside out. “She tells me I can’t eat because I’m not good.”_

“ _If he can testify,” the woman at the door was whispering to Jien, “It will make our case rock solid. We’ll take him into protective custody for now while your emancipation case goes through, and arrange for supervised visitation.”_

_He knew those words. “Wait.” He looked away from the cops. “You mean I don’t get to stay with Jien? Just visits?”_

_Jien looked dismayed, but he shook his head. “Just for a little while. You’ll see me. Just, you gotta go somewhere safe.”_

“ _No!” Jien had protected him! Jien loved him like Mom didn’t! He jumped up and tried to reach for Jien, but one of the police officers held him back. “No! Don’t take Jien away! I need him too! Jien! Please!” He struggled, twisting to get loose and get to him, but Jien shook his head, and then the woman was taking Jien’s wrist and saying, 'you’re distracting him,’ but he screamed as Jien walked away. “No! I’m sorry! I take it all back! Just let me stay with him! Please don’t leave, Jien! Don’t leave! Don’t go!”_

_He only remembered screaming and crying and watching the one good thing he had vanish from his life…_

He opened his eyes. His vision was clear, the ceiling was an unfamiliar white, and he was all alone. He grimaced and closed his eyes again, because he could smell the astringent fumes of the chemicals they’d used to clean his face, hands, and head, not to mention the sterile scent of the sheets and the blue curtain around his bed, and feel the vinyl tube stuck in his arm. His whole body ached, his head was throbbing, and it started to fall into place in his mind: he was in a hospital for the third time he could remember, and damn did he hate it.

He tried to sit up, but something heavy hit his chest and held him down, and suddenly, Jien was leaning over him, his palm over Gojyo’s heart. Gojyo gaped to see him; he hadn’t changed much, the same short dark hair that didn’t cooperate, the same weary smile, but Gojyo hadn’t expected him here. “Bro?”

“Yeah.” Jien mussed his hair, but Gojyo felt him run his fingers along the side of his head. Something hurt when Jien passed his hand over it, but Gojyo muffled a pained grunt. "You coming around?“

"Think so. My head’s pounding. Can I sit up?”

Jien helped prop him up with a pillow. “Better?” Gojyo nodded, and Jien unconsciously reflected it. “Yeah. Yeah, you passed out and gave yourself a good bump on the way down, which is why you got a headache.” Jien indicated the tube in his arm, dripping something clear into his veins. “And this is 'cause you were dehydrated. Doctors say it’s exhaustion – you just rode your own ass too hard and your body couldn’t take it and gave out.”

“Oh.” Gojyo tried to hang his head, but the throb in his skull only worsened. “Shit, I fucked up, huh?”

Jien didn’t answer immediately, instead smiling with a mix of fondness and concern. Then, he muttered, “Someone hurt you, so you hurt yourself. I wish you wouldn’t do this, but it ain’t somethin’ you control.”

“Fuck.” Gojyo put his hand to his face, unable to look Jien in the eyes, because it was coming back. “I'm–”

“Don’t you goddamn apologize.” Jien sniffed and crossed his arms. “If I find the old asshole who screamed you down, I’ll punch his rotten old teeth in, I don’t care if he’s 70 and sick.”

“Bro, no.” Gojyo smoothed his hand back through his hair, wincing as he touched the bump and the little bit of gauze at his hairline. “You go after a customer, he’ll likely ruin me – oh, fuck, I can’t be here!” Gojyo started trying to get to his feet, but Jien pinned him by the chest.

“What’s the matter with you? You need to stay here, you just passed out onto concrete!”

Gojyo tried to push Jien back, but his grip was shaky and his muscles weak. “The shop. I’m the only mechanic, I got cars waitin’–”

“Bro. It’s fine. Kougaiji’s gone over to sub for you.” Jien tried to give him a pacifying smile, speaking like one would to a frightened dog. “Kougaiji and me will cover for you while you get better. You need to rest and get better, okay?”

Gojyo found his strength returning at the thought, but in opposition to Jien's tone, it was rage welling up through him. He managed to throw Jien’s hand off. “You and Kougaiji stay away from my damn business. We ain’t gonna have a repeat of last year’s bullshit!”

“No, we won’t.” Jien stood up to look down into Gojyo’s face, arms crossed. “He’s just subbing in. He’ll sign his name on stuff for insurance purposes, but other than that, it’s your shop, your business.” He glowered for a moment, and Gojyo shrank back. Shit, he looked pissed. Jien really was just trying help, huh?

“Just… no paperwork. I don’t wanna hate you forever.” Gojyo hung his head and sank into the flimsy pillow, then mumbled, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Jien heaved a sigh, but stretched a hand out to muss Gojyo’s hair. “Hire another mechanic, will ya? We run four bays with ten guys, and that doesn’t count apprentices and stuff. Kou said your apprentice wasn’t even supposed to be there today. He called Lirin in and sent the poor kid home, little guy was a nervous wreck already.”

Gojyo grimaced and ducked out of Jien's touch. Goku, the poor bastard! “Dumb kid. He’s gotta study. Shit, think you can tell Kou to give him off 'til the nineteenth? He’s been workin’ hard, too, he oughta have a break before the end of the semester.” He couldn’t remember having a single conversation with the kid for the past two days, nothing more than “good morning” and “take care,” but he still remembered how devastated Goku looked after that one customer had chewed him out. Goku had probably heard the whole thing, how the hell was he feeling?”

“I think Kou wants to see what he can do, but we’ll talk to him.” Jien sank back into the chair. “So, uh, you’re gonna stay here a little while so they can watch you. You knocked your head good, like I said. And they’re gonna feed you soup and Jell-o 'til they’re sure you can handle solid food. You and me got a lot to talk about, but we can’t do it here.” He let his gaze rest on Gojyo, and Gojyo felt himself buckling under the weight of Jien's pity. “I don’t wanna stress you out any more. I just want you to feel better. So, maybe we can talk about nice things, like that good-looking fella standing out in the hall, waiting his turn to come in.”

Gojyo felt both a spark of panic and a tiny burst of hope in his chest. “Hakkai?”

“Seems like circumstances have let me to meet the guy from the picture.” Jien grinned. “He’s kinda quiet, but he seems nice. Hard to tell, meeting him like this and all, but he seems to really care about you. How’d you meet him?”

“He came into the shop.” Gojyo rubbed the back of his head. “I fixed his car on the fly when he needed to make a delivery.”

“Delivery? What’s he deliver?”

“Cakes. He owns the bakery on the other side of the block.”

Jien smirked and crossed his arms. “Now, that’s something. He can cook, huh? I remember the time you set the kitchen on fire.”

“Hey, that was once! But yeah, he cooks.” Gojyo crossed his arms and bowed his head, smiling as he thought. “He cooks, he bakes, he explains stuff to me, he texts me back when I text him, we call each other when we can’t see each other, he brings me breakfast…” It started to come to him that the few times Hakkai had popped up in his memories of the past days (leaving food for him with Goku, sending him messages that he didn’t look at twice, calling him), Gojyo had pushed him back. Gojyo had ignored him. Gojyo had listened to him on the phone, his voice scraping at his ear, with a nasty voice screeching from his soul, _“You don’t deserve him. He’s going to see you for the trash you are and hate you.”_ He vaguely remembered hearing Hakkai say his farewells, and doubling over and whispering those words he couldn’t say to Hakkai’s face, as if he could change that… “Fuck, he’s the best guy I’ve ever met and I’ve treated him bad. I can hardly remember the last time we talked.”

“You ain’t been well.” Jien glanced back to the door around the curtain, then turned back to Gojyo. “It sounds like he’s a good guy, and he’s here 'cause he’s way worried. I gotta get back, but I’m gonna let him see ya. I’ll be back to visit tomorrow, but hopefully they’ll let you out after that.” He put his hand on Gojyo’s head. “Love ya, kid.”

“Jien?” Gojyo grimaced a little at the weight of his hand, wincing for a second at the contact but opening an eye to take Jien in again. “Thanks. I mean it. I… I really… I mean, I ain’t done bein’ mad at you, but… I love you, too.”

Jien’s smile wobbled, looking a little wan. “Well, uh, maybe we can talk a little sometimes now?”

“I can try.” Gojyo bowed his head again, despite the ache. Then, he remembered something he had wanted to say. “And, uh, congrats on the olive.”

“Olive?” Jien raised an eyebrow, and Gojyo tried to trace the image in the air in front of him.

“The picture Yaone sent.”

“Oh. _Ohh!_ ” Jien grinned. “You thought that was an olive? Jeez. But, yeah, it’s really something.” He rubbed the back of his head. “I can hardly believe it, y'know? I mean, can you imagine me, as a dad?”

“That was what I said.” Gojyo found himself laughing, his face hurting from the grin. “I mean, us. Having a family. A family, like this.”

“Anything’s possible. We started somewhere rough, y'know?” Jien ruffled his hair again. “I want you to get better, too.”

Jien left, closing the curtain around his bed, but Gojyo heard the rumble of his voice in the hall, answered by an indistinct but familiar tenor. Then, Hakkai pushed the curtain back, and Gojyo felt sick just looking at him. He was so obviously forcing a smile that Gojyo couldn’t help but anticipate what Hakkai was hiding under it. He couldn’t tell if Hakkai was livid or on the verge of tears. Hakkai took the chair left vacant by Jien without taking his focus off of Gojyo for an instant, and Gojyo broke eye contact first.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry you got dragged here chasing my sorry ass, and for not talking to ya, and being dumb.”

Hakkai was quiet, and lowered his focus to the backs of his folded hands. Then, he reached out and took Gojyo’s hands in his. “I’m not angry.”

Somehow, that was worse. Gojyo cringed and kept his eyes shut. “Then what'cha feelin’? I know you’re feelin’ somethin’.”

Hakkai made a strange little chortle, between a soft laugh and a snort, and traced little circles on the webbing between Gojyo’s thumb and palm with his thumbs. “Astute. I’m worried, Gojyo.” The little circles became bigger and slower. “I’m concerned. There are many things you haven’t told me, and perhaps you need not have told me yet had they not so suddenly come up and torn you down.”

“Jien?” Gojyo dared open one eye to try to read Hakkai's expression again, but he was unreadable. 

“He told me enough. If there’s more, I’ll leave it to you to decide what you want me to know.” Hakkai shook his head. “And I’m hurt that whatever this is that made you think it was alright to do this to yourself spread to me. I thought I’d done something wrong when you stopped talking to me.”

“No, never.” Gojyo shook his head, but still couldn’t bear to look Hakkai in the eye. “You’re perfect, what could you possibly do or say wrong?”

Hakkai stopped fidgeting, and held Gojyo’s hands still in front of him, lightly, gently, not squeezing in the slightest. “Please never harbor that illusion of me. I simply didn’t know whether or not there was anything I’d done wrong.” He shook his head. “Not knowing what you’ve done, if you’ve done something wrong, because the other person can’t or won’t speak to you, is like not knowing if there’s a blade being held at your throat in a dark room.” He sighed, sinking into his seat, and Gojyo dared look at him, only to see him in despair. “I was terrified. It’s a horrible thing, watching someone for whom one cares be lifted into an ambulance. For a moment, I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again.”

“But you did, I’m okay, see?” Gojyo closed both of his hands around one of Hakkai’s, clasping it against the sheet on his legs. “I’m fine.” He grinned for Hakkai, teeth and all, but Hakkai couldn’t return it. “See, I’m awake, and they said it’s just a little concussion. Probably bounced my head on a car or the floor, and now I’m just a little dizzy and hungry. Gimme a few days, I’ll be causin’ trouble again and you know it.”

Hakkai searched Gojyo’s face, eyebrows knit, lips thin, then shook his head and released his hands. “The last time I ever saw Kanan was in a hospital bed.” Gojyo’s heart sank, and he tried to speak, but Hakkai did first. “Not like this, no. She was alone in a room, not a shared room like this. Covered in wires and tubes. She could barely stay awake to speak to me. But coming back here, the scents, the sights, the sounds, it’s all here again. And you brush this off as being 'a little dizzy.’ But at least you’re awake.”

Now Hakkai was starting to get angry, and Gojyo squirmed against the cold feeling in his chest and gut. “Hakkai…”

“What happened?” He shook his head. “What could have possibly driven you to starve yourself? Really, I should be personally affronted, I feed people for a living." Hakkai tensed, his voice taking a hard edge. "I sent you breakfast.”

“I wasn’t eating. Goku tried to make me, but… I didn’t.” Gojyo huffed. “Look, it’s… it’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big – you’re in a hospital bed. Reconsider your statement.”

Shit, now it was coming out. Gojyo sucked his lips in and shook his head. “Just… something a customer said. Got to me. I don’t even remember what the old bastard looked like, just that… what he said, it’s like… what someone else said. And then I kept hearing her voice and…” He realized he was shaking, and stopped. “I dunno. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid, Gojyo. It sounds like you had a flashback.”

Gojyo glanced up at Hakkai again, to see that he was still frowning. “I dunno what you mean.”

“You were reliving a traumatic experience after being reminded of it.” Hakkai started to reach for Gojyo, then seemed to think better and clasped his hands together. “Someone hurt you, and when you’re reminded, it comes back into your mind. How long were you living like that?”

Gojyo felt like he’d been pinned to a wall with nails, balled his hands into fists against the sheets, and ground out, “I dunno. Few days.”

Hakkai shook his head, his face wrought with sorrow and pain. “You can’t do this. I can’t find you in hospital beds or unconscious on the ground because something hurts you and you lose the sense to take care of yourself. You realize I have moments like this too, and when they come, I call you.”

Gojyo cringed, because the raw hurt in Hakkai’s voice had become as obvious as a knife through the heart. “I didn’t… I…”

He knew he could have told Hakkai, “I didn’t think I deserved you giving a shit about me.” However, he also knew exactly how stupid that would sound. What kind of man was he, anyway?

“I thought I’d be okay. I was wrong, but I’m getting better now.” He reached for Hakkai, but Hakkai merely sighed and rose to his feet. “Hakkai?”

Hakkai was turning around. Turning away. He must have been so angry. Gojyo couldn’t hear what he was saying. All he could hear were panicked klaxons in his head, and the words rushing out of his mouth before he could stop them. “DON’T LEAVE!”

Hakkai frowned and spun on his heel. “G-Gojyo… I was just going to–”

“Please don’t leave. Don’t go!” He felt so pitifully small, but he wasn’t controlling the words coming out of his mouth anymore. “I’m sorry! I fucked up a bunch and I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean ta – I, I just – I n-nee - I’m sorry, don’t leave me, don’t leave me alone, I don’t know what you want me to say, I’m just so tired and I don’t want you to think I’m stupid or hate me, please, don’t go.”

Hakkai stared at him, lips parted just a little, then dropped the curtain to close them back in. He eased himself onto the bed, sitting with his knee up on the side. “I won’t. I won’t hate you, I won’t think you’re stupid, and I won’t leave. Come here.” He wrapped one arm around Gojyo’s back and pulled him in. Gojyo sank helplessly into the hug, and Hakkai let Gojyo’s forehead rest on his shoulder. Finally, Gojyo could figure out what Hakkai was feeling: a little angry, a little scared, but more than anything, relieved he was alive. Hakkai closed his arm around Gojyo and traced little patterns down his back with his other hand. Gojyo groaned and pressed his eyes into Hakkai’s neck as heat and fury rushed to his face, and suddenly his cheeks were wet.

“I…” His jaw moved without him wanting it to, but he choked out, “I messed up…”

“Shh.” Hakkai smoothed his palm down his back, then drew back a little and nudged Gojyo’s chin to convince him to make eye contact. “Yes, and you’re sorry. You said as much. I’m not happy that you shut me out, but I still care about you. I’m going to take very good care of you, alright?” Gojyo nodded, and Hakkai hushed him again, gently, sweetly, then lightly ran his fingers up his forehead and into his hair. “I know they have to watch you because you hit your head. When they clear you to leave, would you like to come and stay with me for a few days?” Gojyo nodded, and Hakkai touched his forehead to his. “Then you will. I make the best oxtail broth in the Pacific Northwest, and I’ll keep you fed, warm, and safe until you’re strong enough to stand on your own again. And if you need someone to silence whatever voice in your head is telling you that you don’t deserve to eat, then I will speak in your ear until it is drowned out.” He smoothed Gojyo’s hair again, then rubbed his nose against his and looked into his eyes. “What did that awful person say?”

Gojyo bit his lip for a second, then muttered, “Worthless. Mom would say it, too.”

Hakkai shivered at that, but rubbed his cheek against Gojyo’s. “Do you think you’re worthless?” Gojyo didn’t answer. Hakkai wanted to hold him tighter at that, but resisted. “You mean a lot to me.”

“I…” Gojyo inhaled sharply, then gasped out, voice quavering, “I know.”

Hakkai held Gojyo for a few long minutes, stroking his hair, running his palm down his back, before Gojyo finally shifted backwards. When he did, it was just to smear his cheeks dry with his hand. “Shit,” he muttered huskily, and shook his head. “Jeez. Real impressive, right?”

“I’m not here to be impressed. I’m here to nurse you back to health, and reassure you of the things that brought you here in the first place.” Hakkai paused, a light coming to his eyes. “Ah, but that reminds me. I really must call Goku.”

“Goku?”

“Yes. When I was about to, er, step out before, it was both to get some fresh air and to let him know you were awake, speaking, and doing alright.” Hakkai pulled the bedside phone closer to them. “Shall we call him together?”

“Shit, yeah, he’s probably still pissing himself.” Gojyo picked up the phone and plugged Goku’s cell phone number in. Hakkai held a hand out, but kept stroking Gojyo’s hair with the other. Gojyo realized Hakkai wanted the phone, and Gojyo passed it to him, earning a sweet smile, but it was one of those that Gojyo couldn’t quite tell if it was real or fake. Hakkai put the receiver to his ear as it rang, slipping an arm around Gojyo’s shoulders and shifting further onto the bed.

“Goku? It’s Hakkai. How are you holding up?” Gojyo could hear Goku talking, but not what he was saying. Hakkai’s kind gaze lingered on him as he waited for Goku to finish. “I’m glad to hear it. I have someone here who would like to talk to you. I’m passing the phone over.” Hakkai passed the phone to Gojyo, and Gojyo smirked. Leave it to Hakkai to surprise Goku a little.

“Hey there, monkeybrains.”

“Gojyo!” Goku squeaked out, gasping like he’d been told he won the lottery. “You’re okay! Hakkai’s there with ya? You’re not too bad off?”

“Yeah, he’s takin’ good care of me.” Hakkai chuckled, and Gojyo winked at him. Already, he felt human again, alive, a little more himself. He knew that he’d have to have a really tough conversation about this with Hakkai someday, but it seemed like that day wasn’t going to be today. Hakkai was still soothingly petting his hair and leaning a little into his lap, though, so he knew they would be alright until then. “And I’m gonna be just fine.”

It was just a matter of getting there.

* * *

Jien came back to visit a few times over the next few days, but Hakkai was there as often as he could be. He admitted to Gojyo that he’d been taking off early and was getting the other bakers to cover for him despite the Christmas rush, but he also stated it was entirely worth it. Gojyo, for his part, ate his Jell-o and chicken broth without complaint, ignored the snoring of the other three men sleeping in his room, and tried not to call the garage to check on Goku and Kougaiji every twenty minutes. Hakkai tried to keep him entertained in his bed, but since that couldn’t be nearly as lewd as Gojyo wished it could, they found alternatives.

“You exercise in your spare time, you said, and you watch television.” Hakkai squinted at the lone TV in the room, the remote control for which was being held hostage by the old man recovering from a hernia operation kitty-corner from Gojyo. “I don’t believe either of those are possible today. What did you do in your spare time before you opened your business?”

Gojyo had to think. “Jeez, well, me an’ Banri would usually sit around and drink, but that ain’t much of an option.” He paused, rubbing the back of his head and letting his other hand fidget on his splayed legs. “Play cards?” Then, he wiggled an eyebrow at Hakkai, smirking. “Screw?”

Hakkai smiled mildly and patted his hand. “I’ll see what I can do about a deck of cards, then.”

Hakkai had never played poker before, so he said as he asked Gojyo to teach him how to play, but from the way he consistently beat Gojyo, Gojyo wondered if that wasn’t another bluff. Gojyo still taught him everything he knew, and as many games as he could think of between interruptions from nurses checking his vitals and looking in his eyes with a flashlight and asking how he was feeling, and his own sleepiness.

Gojyo still had headaches, and he was somehow exhausted just sitting in bed all day. He would find himself falling asleep in the middle of games or conversations. Hakkai would still stay with him when he did sleep, and when Gojyo opened his eyes, he would be there, either on his cell phone with Sanzo or reading one of his novels. That was as restorative to Gojyo as any sleep or entertainment: knowing Hakkai was there and would be there.

When Gojyo was released from the hospital, Hakkai kept his word and picked him up in his little car. Jien brought him an overnight bag with a few clean sets of clothes.

“You stay with him until you stop having those headaches.” Jien crossed his arms in the way that said he wasn’t giving a suggestion. Gojyo grunted, sulking in the wheelchair they had forced him to get into for the ride to the door, and focused instead on Hakkai’s car as Hakkai tried to pull into the narrow gap in the pickup loop.

“He’d probably get mad at me again if I tried to leave before I was at one-hundred percent.”

“I don’t think he was mad, bro. I think he was scared.” Jien paused. “I was scared. Ain’t nobody wants to lose you.”

Gojyo knew Jien meant more than his injury, more than the past few days. “I don’t wanna die, if that’s what you mean.”

“I’d rather you not die either.” Jien chuckled and patted Gojyo’s hair, just as Hakkai got his car parked. It wasn’t a yes or a no, and Gojyo knew it. Still, Jien helped him to his feet but caught him by the shoulders. “Hey, do you and he have Christmas plans?”

“I was gonna spend it with him, if he’ll still have me. He doesn’t have any family.”

“No? That’s a damn shame.” Jien puzzled on this for a moment. “Well, I’d be real happy to have you and him for the holiday.”

“I’ll ask him.” Gojyo pivoted to Hakkai, who had gone for his overnight bag, and grinned. “Hey, you wanna meet my family for Christmas?”

“Delighted to.” Hakkai blinked a few times in mild surprise, then looked to Jien. “Shall I bring something?”

“Whatever you wanna bring, Mister Master Baker.” Jien chuckled to himself. “Dessert would be nice. There’s four of us, and two of you, so six altogether.”

“Yes, so it is.” Hakkai opened the passenger door for Gojyo, but got his cellphone out. “Gojyo, go ahead. May I have your number?”

Gojyo heard them talk briefly, but settled in the car. He felt something strange at seeing the two of them having a conversation, something a little like suspicion, but tried to ignore it. Maybe after having Jien out of his life so long, he wasn’t sure how to deal with him suddenly being back after so much had changed. Maybe it was just uncanny seeing the surviving specter of his past talking with the person he considered his present.

Hakkai got back in the driver’s seat and put his seatbelt on, and Jien tapped on Gojyo’s window. Gojyo rolled the window down and Jien leaned down. “Keep in touch, okay? I’d rather the next time I see you be a happy time.”

“It’ll be Christmas, dumbass, of course it’ll be.” Gojyo grinned. “Thanks for takin’ care of me, bro.”

“Anytime.” Jien stepped back, and watched on the sidewalk as Hakkai put the car in gear and carefully drove out onto the main road. Gojyo lay back in the seat, listening to the carols playing at a low volume on Hakkai’s radio.

“Gojyo?” Hakkai didn’t look away from the street as he pulled to a stop at the light. “Why were you two quarreling?”

Gojyo scrunched his nose, but he couldn’t be upset. He’d had a feeling the question would come up at some point. “He tried to screw me over.”

“Was it something to do with your…” Hakkai hesitated, but Gojyo filled in the blanks.

“Nah, nothing to do with her. I mean, I was actually happy to go back to him after foster care. He didn’t like that me and Banri stayed friends, though.” Gojyo crossed his arms, leaned back in the seat, and closed his eyes. “Banri got me in a lot of trouble, and Jien hated it. He was way happy that I became a mechanic, even if it meant I was still working with Banri, but when he heard me an’ Banri were opening our own auto shop after being juniors in another shop for a few years, he sounded okay with it, but he wasn’t. He and his partner, Kou, offered to help, but they were actually rewriting stuff to sign it all over to them. The lease, the articles of incorporation, it was all gonna be theirs. They were gonna make us a subsidiary of their shop without telling us, let us think we were doing it all, but in reality, we’d be under their control and they could'a yanked the rug out from under us at any moment.”

“They essentially could have taken your business, had they succeeded.” Hakkai frowned, glancing over at him as he halted at the red light. Gojyo grunted affirmation. “That’s…”

“I caught them. Saw their names signed in places where me and Banri’s should'a been, read things over, and realized they were screwing us. Their names were even gonna be on the escrow. Banri said they were gonna skim off the top, but I don’t think they did it to be greedy.” Gojyo sighed, tilting his neck back. “Jien didn’t trust me. I was a rotten teenager and Banri was a bad influence, so he thought, and even if I’d spent five years turning myself around, he didn’t think I could handle my own shop, my own life.” He still remembered that night, the last time he’d been face to face with Jien before he woke up in the hospital. He hardly remembered what he’d said, other than _“You’re fucking me over a barrel and expect me to stand there and take it! You think I’m your Mom or something, just gonna take your dick up my ass and fucking thank you for it?!”_ He didn’t remember what Jien had screamed back at him, but he remembered the fistfight all too well. He also remembered the sobbing phone call he got from Jien the next day, listening passively as he held ice over his bruised face, and hanging up without a word. “I ain’t really felt like talking to him after that blew up. I said a lot of shit I probably oughtn’t’ve, but there ain’t really a way to take it back, since I meant it all. But he said he’s sorry for not trusting me, I just still ain’t ready to forgive him.”

Hakkai pursed his lips, but turned his eyes back to the road. “I see. It’s unfortunate.”

Gojyo turned an eye to him. “Why do you say that?”

“Because it is. He likely only thought he was doing what was best for you, but it hurt you in the process.” Hakkai pried one hand from the wheel and rested it on Gojyo’s knee. “I imagine all the apology in the world won’t remedy it, but it’s gracious for you to speak with him again. Family, relationships, they can be a difficult dance.”

“Yeah,” Gojyo agreed under his breath. “You’re telling me.” He glanced over at Hakkai again. “But, uh, I think with the right person, it’s not so hard.”

“No?” Hakkai smiled wryly. “I think I see what you mean.” He continued down the road, his palm still resting on Gojyo’s thigh, onwards towards his home.

He’d gotten through the worst of it, at least. Plus, he’d gotten at least a few awkward conversations out of the way, and Hakkai hadn’t even flinched. Somehow, he felt like he’d come out of this all the better. There was plenty he and Hakkai still had to work out, but he’d started down the right road. He just had to make it through the rest of the recovery, and with Hakkai at his side, he was sure he could do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Refeeding syndrome, mentioned in the chapter, is a metabolic disturbance that can occur when an individual who has been starved, who is malnourished, or metabolically stressed begins nutrition intake again, essentially resulting in a set of systemic malfunctions (including electrolyte and fluid imbalances, cellular malfunction resulting in respiratory and pulmonary stress, low levels of phosphate in the blood) as the body re-adapts to regular nutrition intake. This can occur after long fasts, bouts of anorexia nervosa, or any condition in which one has had low nutritional intake.


	22. Christmas with Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gojyo’s on the mend, but he’s gotten well enough to meet Hakkai’s “family,” Sanzo’s parents. Or so he thinks.

**22: Christmas with Family**

The gloomy, gray weather was keeping December from really feeling like Christmas. Gojyo was still mostly feeling pathetic while being on the mend.

Gojyo spent four days at Hakkai’s house, varying between being generally pathetic on his sofa, being pathetic in bed, and, one day, being pathetic in the office of Hakkai’s bakery. He wasn’t sure quite what to do with himself only being allowed to run his business over brief phone calls with Jien and Kougaiji, and still dealing with his tiredness.

“I feel useless,” he groused after hanging up the phone somewhere on day two, but Hakkai clicked his tongue and emerged from the kitchen to stroke his hair.

“Sometimes, you do need to stop and let yourself completely restore. That way, when you do return to work, you’ll be better, stronger, and ready.”

Hakkai was the only positive in the situation, but that was one very big strike in the positive side. Hakkai kept him following the doctor’s orders: he fed Gojyo soup, rice, and finally simple meals over the course of a few days, he ensured Gojyo took medicine and naps for his headaches, and he kept him busy when he was awake. Despite still being kitten-weak, Gojyo felt like himself again the first time he was allowed to eat solid food, and much more human than he’d felt when he first woke up in the hospital.

Gojyo figured out Hakkai was working before he woke up, if only because he managed to wake up before ten on day three and found that Hakkai wasn’t there. It was still his busy season, so Gojyo wasn’t mad, more worried. When Hakkai did come home to find Gojyo on the sofa eating cereal in his boxers, he looked somewhere between amused and dismayed, a helpless smile and slumped shoulders. Gojyo spoke before he could: “I know you gotta work, but it’s quiet here without you. Maybe tomorrow morning, you can just take me with you? I can stay out of the way.”

Hakkai laughed softly, but shut the door behind him and took his jacket and scarf off. “It is quiet here, especially since I’ve gotten used to my life being a little noisier of late.” He gave Gojyo a significant look. “I’ve started to get lonely when I don’t have visitors or phone calls.”

Gojyo shrank into the cushion. “Uh…”

“All the more reason to consider getting a cat after the holidays.” Hakkai sighed, relaxing, and moved in to kiss Gojyo on the forehead. “Go ahead and finish your cereal at the table. I’m going to make you some cocoa. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to the bakery with me.”

Gojyo slept in his socks so he wouldn’t have to find a pair in the morning, sleepwalked his jacket on and slept in the bakery office. He woke to the smell of warm croissants left on Sanzo’s desk for him and cinnamon buns rising in the next room. Sanzo peered in on him shortly after he did wake, glowering with narrow eyes from the door as Gojyo tore his croissant into pieces and dipped it into the cocoa Hakkai had left for him.

“You got somethin’ to say?”

Sanzo stared at Gojyo a moment longer from where he stood propped against the door. After a few seconds, he muttered, “Don’t get crumbs in my keyboard.” He paused, as Gojyo snorted and wolfed down another bite of croissant without caring where the flakes went. “And it’s good that you’re feeling better.” He stalked off without another word, and Gojyo realized that was as close as he was going to get to outward sympathy from Sanzo.

At least nobody had given him grief about being lazy. When Hakkai popped his head in, his face dusted with flour and spattered with flecks of chocolate, Gojyo just grinned and told him, “I’m fine, just sittin’ here being kind of pathetic.” Hakkai admonished him with the same exasperation that he’d had every time Gojyo had mentioned how “pathetic” he felt.

“You’re not being pathetic. You’re recovering. From what I can tell, up until the day you collapsed, you hadn’t given yourself a vacation in ten months. Not so much as a day off.” Hakkai set his hands on his hips somewhere in his rant, and Gojyo put his chin on the desk. “One would think you’d appreciate the rest.”

“After being so busy, sittin’ still has me bored.” Gojyo felt like they’d had the conversation twenty times, and maybe they had. The more he said it, though, the more it mystified him. He still remembered the life of a layabout good-for-nothing that slept until three if nobody woke him up. Adjusting to a daytime schedule had been hard and only harder when he and Banri opened the garage. He’d only worked the twelve-hour days because he’d had to, but after this long, his body barely remembered anything else. “I guess I’ve kinda gotten stuck in a rut.” Hakkai sighed his sympathy and relented.

“Once you hire more help and give yourself more days to rest, we’ll find you some healthy hobbies.” He closed both hands over Gojyo’s on the desk. “Everyone has things well in hand here. I’m only going to stay another hour, and we can go home after that. Would you like some coffee?”

“Nah, it’ll give me a headache. Guess I’ll call Jien and check in.” Hakkai hummed mildly, neutrally, but patted Gojyo’s fingers.

“Try not to worry too much. That will give you a headache, too.”

Gojyo chuckled, then dusted some of the flour from Hakkai’s cheek. “You’re one to talk. Lookin’ kinda pale there yourself, aren'cha?” He grinned and showed off the powder on his palm, and Hakkai chuckled and dusted his face.

“I’m fine. Perhaps later, we can take a nap together. Or not.” Hakkai kissed Gojyo’s nose and turned, letting Gojyo grin to himself as he filled in the blanks.

Then, he dialed Jien’s cell from the office phone.

Hakkai had pleaded with him not to call too often, but it was Gojyo’s business, he had to know. However, Jien had learned not to pick up when Gojyo called after the fifth time he called in the course of a day (and the seven-thousandth time Jien had reminded him he was supposed to be resting). On the office line, however, Jien did pick up.

“Hello?”

“Don’t hang up, bro!” Gojyo smirked and sat back, but heard Jien groan. “Come on, I ain’t called all day. How’re things looking over there?”

“Everything’s fine. Your numbers are on par with what they’ve been the past few weeks, there’s been no major issues. Lirin and Goku take good care of you.” Jien huffed into the receiver. “I’ll email you the spreadsheet at the end of the day, now will you quit calling me unless you actually wanna talk?”

Gojyo blew a raspberry at the receiver. “Fine. How’s Yaone doing?”

“She’s fine.” Jien sounded somewhere between amused and exasperated.

“Kou keeping busy?”

“You know he is.”

“Did you want me to nudge Hakkai towards making anything in particular for the Christmas thing?” Gojyo leaned back in the office chair, rocking a little as he brainstormed. “Brownies, maybe? He was saying something about chocolate pie, though. You don’t do sweets much, but is there something you like?”

Jien was quiet on the other end for a moment, then muttered, “To be honest? Something mild. Nothing with a strong smell or strong flavors. So, maybe like a vanilla pie? Just a plate of plain old sugar cookies would be fine.”

This gave Gojyo pause. “Is that so?” That didn’t sound like anything any of them would particularly like. Then, it hit him. “Hey, uh, roll back what you said about Yaone there.”

Jien laughed softly. “Okay, her stomach’s been funny lately. You know.”

“Yeah, I got it. I’ll pass it on.” Gojyo shook his head and smirked to himself. Funny enough, even indirectly talking about their “family” never failed to make both of them smile. He could hear the warmth in Jien’s voice.

“I gotta get back to your garage, but I’ll update you. Any big plans for the weekend?”

“No – wait, yeah.” Gojyo remembered that Hakkai had asked him to a holiday lunch with Sanzo’s parents, Koumyou and… had he mentioned the name of other one? Sanzo might have when he’d first forewarned Gojyo that the invite might be in the pipeline, but it had slipped his mind. “I’m meeting Hakkai’s sort-of foster parents. Long story.”

“I gotcha.” Jien was frowning a little, Gojyo was sure. “You sure you up for that kind of stress?”

“Please.” Gojyo grinned, raising his hand in a shrug. “They’re Hakkai’s friends’ dads, and his friend told me his one dad was definitely gonna like me. I just gotta be my usual charming self for the other one, and I’m good as gold.”

“Hope you’re right. And when are you seein’ the doctor?”

“Monday, and as long as he says I’m good, I’ll be back at it.” Gojyo flipped upright in the seat. “So, I’ll let you know.”

“Sounds good, kid. See ya.”

Gojyo put the phone down and rocked in the chair again, back and forth, smiling to himself. Yeah, the past few days were a wash as far as work went, but they were a wash he got to spend with Hakkai. Maybe he wasn’t feeling quite as much of a sad sack as he’d thought he might. Maybe things really were looking up.

He actually felt a little stronger. It was either the good food, the sleep, the company, or maybe all of the above. Recovering didn’t help him feel festive, but he definitely felt closer to whole. Was Hakkai really this good for him? He hoped so, and he wanted it to last forever.

* * *

The holiday lunch with his parents, Goku, Hakkai, and Gojyo was supposed to be fun, Hakkai had said. He shouldn’t have been surprised that at negative twenty minutes, it was proving to be a pain in the ass.

“No, you are not taking the bus.” Sanzo scowled at the receiver on his phone as he tied his shoes, the phone on the ground and Goku on speaker. He heard Goku prevaricating on the other end and glowered at the screen of his cell. Both Koumyou and Toudai, waiting at the door in their coats, watched with curiosity (the former) and irritation (the latter) as Sanzo snatched his phone up off of the ground and turned the speaker off. “I’ll pick you up with my parents. It’s not that far out of the way, and I will not let you take the damned bus in this weather.” He turned away from them, growling into the receiver, “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“N-nothing! Just, you don’t wanna take your dads over b-by my place, do ya?” He laughed nervously, but Sanzo didn’t buy it for a second, wouldn’t have bought it with a fucking voucher. Goku had been strange and closed off since before Gojyo’s apparent sickness. Sanzo had thought Gojyo’s getting out of the hospital would get some sort of reaction, but after Sanzo saw him in the flesh (pale and wan but definitely alive), he’d thought telling Goku he was on his feet again would pep him back up. It didn’t seem to change him. Goku had been blaming it on school, but Sanzo had a feeling it was something else.

“You’ve been funny this last week. What the fuck?”

Goku swallowed thickly. “J-just stress. Finals.”

That same damn excuse.“You’re done with finals.” He grunted, but turned half back to where Koumyou and Toudai were waiting. “We’re talking later. I will have a straight answer. For now, I’m coming to get you. Relax. It’s just my parents. This is supposed to be ‘fun,’ isn’t it?”

“Y… yeah.” Goku sounded more tense at that, and Sanzo found himself scowling.

“Why are you nervous about seeing my parents? They like you.”

There was a hum of static over the phone. Sanzo could practically feel Goku trying to string together an answer over the airwaves. “It’s… nothing. Just, been hard. Gojyo, and tests, and… it’s okay. I’ll be waiting downstairs for you to come an’ get me.”

“Good.” Sanzo hung up without so much as a goodbye and stuffed his phone in his jacket pocket, then strode for the door. “He lives on the other side of town, but we’ve got time.”

Koumyou giggled. “It’s not a problem, of course not. But, er.” His expression shifted to one of mild concern, eyebrows knit, smile thin. “Is he alright?”

“He’s been weird.” Sanzo didn’t want to elaborate any further, but pushed the door open. Toudai’s expression didn’t lighten even a shade as he trudged out.

The mood in the car was tense, and all were quiet but for the radio. Koumyou made a few token attempts at conversation, but neither Sanzo or Toudai had much to say, and he eventually gave up with a little sigh and watched out the rear passenger side window. Toudai, however, spoke up as they approached Goku’s building: “He lives in this awful roost?”

“It’s what he and his roommate can afford on student loans, a government stipend, and Goku’s part-time income.” Sanzo had known the question would come and had practiced the answer, not even flinching his recitation as he put the car in park. He could see Goku in the barren lobby from the no-parking zone he’d stopped in and got out as Goku pushed open the lobby doors and jogged down the ragged sidewalk. Sanzo found himself smiling as he noticed Goku had somehow gotten his hands on a black sport coat that was only one size too big, and was even wearing a tie. A bowtie, with little red-nosed reindeer on it. One that was coming undone.

“I see you dressed for the occasion, almost.” Sanzo reached out and yanked the tie the rest of the way off with one light tug, and Goku squeaked. “I’ll fix it. Hold still.” He circled behind Goku and looped the bowtie around his neck, then rested his chin on Goku’s shoulder so he could see his hands as he tied it. Goku made a happy little noise, and turned to face Sanzo with a smile when he tugged the ends in the place and released him.

“Thanks. I tried, but the directions on the package were hard!”

“Hm.” Sanzo mussed his hair. “Just get a clip-on next time. It’s way easier. Plus, something you can wear at other times than Christmas.”

“Aw, but this one was way more fun!” Sanzo started for the car, and Goku bounded after him, chasing his heels. However, his stride slowed as he neared the car to see Toudai and Koumyou in the back seat, and Sanzo practically felt him lock down and close up, his gaze shuttered.

Alright, maybe Goku was more nervous about this whole thing than he had any right to be. Sanzo stopped before opening the passenger-side door. “Something the matter?”

“N-no.” Goku’s eyes rolled down to the ground, and Sanzo raised an eyebrow. “Just… I dunno, about Gojyo meetin’ them. With him just gettin’ out of the hospital and all. It might be stressful for him. Maybe we ought'a call it off, or at least let Gojyo off the hook.”

“Gojyo didn’t say a word about backing out.” Sanzo crossed his arms. “He was looking pretty close to his normal self when I saw him. He and Hakkai can leave if he needs to. Quit worrying about it.”

Goku’s head sunk between his shoulders like a scolded puppy, but he got in the car when Sanzo opened the door for him. By the time Sanzo got in on his side, Koumyou was already happily greeting him.

“… wonderful to see you again! How has school been?”

“Just fine, Mr. Koumyou.” Goku forced a weak little smile, as Toudai surveyed him with a grumble.

“I expect they keep you running. They giving you a good education, boy?”

Goku’s face fell at that. “Mhm.”

“Good.” Toudai turned to face out the window again, glaring at the run-down building. In the grayish light of day, it was uglier than Sanzo had seen. “Once you prove yourself, I’m certain things will look up for you.”

Goku didn’t answer, as Sanzo put the car into drive. Goku’s body language and reactions screamed that something had him very nervous, and he was getting the idea it might have been Toudai. Still, those sorts of things would have to wait. At least Koumyou tried to lighten up the mood in the car, prodding Goku about how nice it was to be on winter break soon, how his grades were, and eventually coaxing little answers out of Goku. Sanzo had hoped Goku would be a ray of sunlight, one that he’d been missing these cold winter days. Toudai had needed to see some light, too, and Sanzo knew that Goku had made Toudai smile before. Today, though, and for the past week and change, Toudai’s expression hadn’t cracked from a dour scowl. Not even a smirk at Goku’s stupid bowtie.

Sanzo was actually starting to feel the edge of Goku’s apprehension for himself. With luck, Gojyo could really be the same smooth charmer that he’d met and immediately loathed. That might actually work on Toudai, or at least give the old curmudgeon something else to think about.

* * *

Hakkai had waited anxiously from the parking lot of Gojyo’s apartment complex. He hadn’t been before, and Gojyo had asked him not to come in.

“I ain’t been home in a while, so it’s a huge mess, and I don’t want you to think less of me.” He’d laced his fingers and gritted a toothy grin. “I’m just gonna get my good shirt and tie, and I’ll worry about cleaning up and giving you the grand tour next time.”

“If you’re certain,” Hakkai had said, but he now found himself nervously glancing around at the stooped-looking brick buildings. It seemed like more of the dark windows were cracked than weren’t, and the roof, with its missing or moldy shingles, was in obvious need of replacement. He hadn’t known Gojyo lived on the other side of the tracks, the literal divide between the middle class and the impoverished ex-mining community. Would Gojyo be safe to come home here when he was well enough to live on his own again? Perhaps Gojyo had lived here most of his life and was used to it, but Hakkai’s instincts told him Gojyo wouldn’t be safe.

Then again, seeing Gojyo come down in his best jacket, his hair tied in an impeccable ponytail, wearing a straight tie and walking tall, Hakkai remembered just how strong Gojyo could be. He smiled with ease and gracefully sat back down in Hakkai’s passenger seat. “I’m sorry I kept ya.”

“It’s no trouble at all.” Hakkai cast one last glance at the sunken, sad-looking buildings, and backed out of the parking space. He didn’t like the thought of Gojyo coming home here, not when he looked so much cozier on his sofa, in his bed, cuddled up at his side.

Not yet. Hakkai couldn’t put that kind of pressure on Gojyo yet. Not when he was just getting over such a stressful event.

Hakkai knew the restaurant Sanzo had suggested well; French fusion, and with a prix-fixe menu for special occasions. It was for the best that the only person with a specialized diet amongst them was Toudai, and he could easily eat around things that were too sugary. The portions weren’t particularly large, but Hakkai did forewarn Gojyo: “There will be soup, salad, the main course, and then a shared dessert tray. If it’s too much food for you, there is no shame in not finishing.”

“Babe, I’m fine.” Gojyo chuckled a little; he obviously found Hakkai’s concern endearing. “This is fine.” Hakkai cast a quick glance over his face, and hummed to himself as he came to the turn.

“Ah, they’re here.” He spotted Sanzo’s white sedan parked in the handicapped parking space, and saw Goku waiting on the sidewalk with Sanzo. Once they parked, Goku ran to Gojyo’s side of the car and waited, bouncing on his heels, for Gojyo to get out and stand, just so Goku could throw his arms around him.

“Gojyo! You really are okay!”

“Jeez, lay off, did you actually think I was dying?” Gojyo laughed, but hugged Goku back. He noticed Sanzo studying him, and nodded. Sanzo nodded back, as Hakkai locked the car and fixed his scarf.

“Your parents are inside?”

“Koumyou was worried about Toudai getting cold.”

Gojyo seemed to jump at this, letting go of Goku, and Goku shivered as he landed. Neither Hakkai nor Sanzo noticed as Gojyo turned to examine Goku’s face, as Goku bit his lower lip.

“So, uh, kid. I know Sharak Sanzo was a coincidence, but how small is the universe?” Gojyo couldn’t keep a sharp edge from his tones, and Goku cringed. Before Gojyo could start prodding Goku for more, Hakkai ushered them both to the door, nagging that it was far too cold to play around outside. Gojyo kept shooting desperate glances to Goku, but Goku shook his head as the door opened. Gojyo found himself caught in a hearty handshake.

“You must be Gojyo!” Gojyo had been accosted by an exceedingly friendly-looking older man with a kind smile framed with thin little age lines, and long silver-blond hair bound in a neat braid. He also had a very firm grip. “I’m Koumyou, Kouryuu’s father.”

“Kouryuu?” Gojyo glanced back to Sanzo, who scoffed and crossed his arms, and Koumyou gasped.

“Really, Kouryuu, you should give your friends your name before you introduce us.” Koumyou huffed, but kept a smile on. “We’ve known Hakkai since he was yea-high–” He held a hand near Gojyo’s waist, then giggled. “Though, yea-high is so much lower on you than it is on me! Either way, we’re delighted to hear he’s found someone special, and he’s told me how very special you are.”

“Oh.” Gojyo wasn’t sure what else to say. He’d never met a grown-ass man who had _doted_ on him like this, and he was caught between embarrassment for Koumyou (seriously, his masculinity had to be virtually nil) and embarrassment for himself (because he was sure Sanzo was trying not to laugh at the flush in his cheeks). “Well, uh. Hakkai’s pretty special too.”

“Isn’t he?” Koumyou giggled and turned to Hakkai to pat his hand. “He’s even more handsome than you said.”

“He’s rather indescribable in that way.” Hakkai squeezed Koumyou’s palm, clearly pleased from the genuine satisfaction in his expression. “It’s a delight to see you again. Ah, and where’s–”

“Right here,” a gruff voice answered from behind Koumyou, and Koumyou and Sanzo parted to let a man Gojyo remembered down to the last wrinkle between his eyes join the crowd. Toudai Sanzo stared Gojyo in the face, and his brow furrowed. “You’re Hakkai’s new beau.”

Gojyo felt every word he had die, as he’d been told he had no right to talk. He caught Hakkai staring at him expectantly, and he extended a hand and tried not to betray anything. “Mr. Sanzo, right? It’s a pleasure.”

Toudai, again, did not accept Gojyo’s handshake, staring at him with a mix of surprise and fury that Gojyo tried to ignore. Koumyou tapped his shoulder after a moment. “Your manners, Momo.” Toudai shot Koumyou a sharp look, but seized Gojyo’s hand, squeezed it, then dropped it.

“A pleasure,” he repeated, his deep-set, dark eyes fixing on Gojyo in a glower. Hakkai sagged, visibly dismayed, but Toudai turned his back and stalked into the restaurant. Koumyou clicked his tongue, rubbed his chin and sighed.

“I’m sorry about him, he’s been in a foul temper lately.” Koumyou took Gojyo’s wrist and patted his hand. “Pay no mind to him – oh, you’re as white as a sheet.”

Gojyo’s face felt cold. He could acutely feel Hakkai studying him. He couldn’t even rationalize why he was so spooked at the very sight of the old bastard. He wasn’t _her._ He was nothing like _her_. So Toudai had bruised his feelings a little, get over it, idiot. He took a breath and forced a grin. “Yeah, it’s kinda cold, and I’m still feeling a little wobbly.”

“He’s recovering from a concussion.” Hakkai rested his hand on Gojyo’s shoulder. “Why don’t we get ourselves seated?”

“Certainly, we have a table.” Koumyou turned and motioned for Hakkai to follow, and Hakkai steered Gojyo to follow, but spoke in a voice meant for him:

“Are you alright? If you need to leave, please say so.”

Gojyo shook his head and glanced back to where Goku trudged at Sanzo’s side. Sanzo was scowling at Goku, and Gojyo thought he heard him asking, “What’s the matter with you?” and Goku’s mumbled response that he was just hungry, but Goku lifted his eyes for a split second to meet Gojyo’s gaze, then dropped his face again.

The damned kid must have known the second the old man had walked into the shop. No wonder he was all tense. Gojyo wanted to puke.

Nope. This was supposed to be fun. Supposed to be nice. So what if one of the guys he was trying to impress thought he was the scum of the Earth? He could still be cool for Koumyou. He just had to make it through this lunch and prove that the old fart couldn’t keep him down.

He could tell himself that all he liked, but it didn’t wick out the sensation of ash on his tongue.

This was a really nice restaurant. Gojyo could tell. It looked like one of those places from magazines: elegant, with pressed white tablecloths and ornate china and more flatware than Gojyo knew what to do with. The soups at their places looked great, almost as good as the broth Hakkai had been feeding him, and it was probably delicious, but Gojyo couldn’t make himself do more than shuffle the bits of noodle and vegetables around the bowl. He tried to lift the spoon to his lips, but the smell made his stomach twist up with nausea. He could see Toudai’s beady black eyes affixed to him from across the table, either accusing or damning him with every twitch of his pupils. Hakkai and Koumyou didn’t seem to notice, instead talking animatedly about Hakkai’s business, the different pastries he was making, just how popular everything was. He tried to listen in case Hakkai indicated him, but he wasn’t sure how much he trusted his mouth right now, going in or out.

He couldn’t eat. Fuck, this wasn’t his fault, why was this happening again?

Toudai, meanwhile, sat nearly opposite from Gojyo, next to Goku and Koumyou. Goku trembled at his side, because he could see the face Gojyo was making. It was exactly the same look he got when Hakkai was trying to leave him treats and Gojyo wasn’t letting himself have them. Toudai had him spooked all over again, and this time, he had no way of avoiding it. Toudai, meanwhile, leaned over to him and spoke in a conspiratorial mutter: “That’s your boss, isn’t it? I forgot his name, but I recall you telling us.” Goku nodded and bit his lower lip, but put his spoon down. His appetite had dried up all of a sudden. Toudai scoffed. “What kind of cut-rate school would put you with an incompetent like him? Did you know he damaged my car when I took it to his shop?” Goku cringed, but didn’t say anything. He flashed a look to Sanzo, but Sanzo was pretending interest in Koumyou and Hakkai’s conversation about the bakery and didn’t see him begging for help. Toudai harrumphed and shifted in his seat. “Perhaps he had your administrators charmed, too. The boy’s lucky he’s handsome, but if he leans on that, it’ll get him in trouble.”

“H… he’s really good, actually. He works really hard. And he’s a good teacher. The other guys in my class, they say their internship bosses don’t let them do much and mostly make ‘em watch, but Gojyo lets me help as much as possible.” Goku nudged his mostly-full bowl away, unable to look at it anymore. “He’s good.”

Toudai scoffed under his breath. “You haven’t had a good teacher, you wouldn’t know. I’ve seen him. He’s a smarmy, overconfident, smug jackass, he is. And he was sick, they were saying?”

“Exhaustion. He passed out and hit his head,” Goku mumbled, and Toudai snarled into his soup.

“ _Exhaustion_ , really, that’s just what publicists say when some rich moron overdoses. Probably a user. Too many of you boys from that part of town are. And those scars on his face.” Toudai traced two lines over his cheek to imitate the creases up Gojyo’s jawline. “Probably in with organized crime. Bet he runs a chop shop where you can’t see. Damn it all, Hakkai’s been taken in again.” Goku’s stomach dropped through to the floor at that. “He’s a different kind of slime, but a slime nonetheless. You’ve met Nii.” Sanzo seemed to hear that over his mild interest in Koumyou and Hakkai's conversation, lifting his head towards their exchange, even as Toudai gesticulated and continued to talk just in the range of Goku’s hearing. “He’s a charmer, too. Full of snake oil and empty promises. It’s bad enough raising a boy that turns out like that, but meeting one in the wild is something else.” Toudai shook his head. “And seeing Hakkai fall for the act again. You young people need to be more careful about who you trust.”

Sanzo frowned and leaned over the table. “I didn’t hear most of that, but don’t bring _him_ up right now.” Goku cringed, until Sanzo followed up, “He’s like the Devil, he’ll probably show up if you say his name.”

It wasn’t fair. Goku wanted to die laughing now, but he couldn’t lift himself far enough away from Toudai to feel mirth. He just felt like he was being crushed. There wasn’t even any comfort in not being alone, because he couldn’t even look at Gojyo where he sat.

“Gojyo?” Gojyo snapped to attention at the sound of his name, and realized he’d been staring into his bowl, lost in thought, and Hakkai was looking at him with dismay. “You’re not eating.”

“Huh?” He pretended he hadn’t been staring at his untouched soup, and pasted on another nervous grin. “Kinda lost in thought, my bad.” He lifted the spoon to his lips, feeling his fingers shake as they got close.

Toudai was glaring at him again.

His stomach ached.

This was so fucking pointless.

Gojyo dropped the spoon and rose abruptly. “I’ll be back.” He strode for the front door, feeling Hakkai staring after him as he fled. He needed a cigarette, he needed something that would stop the shaking. He needed to break his head out of this or he was going to completely lose it.

Goku flinched as the front door to the restaurant closed, and Toudai scoffed aloud. “Good riddance to bad rubbish.” Koumyou whipped around in his seat, eyebrows raised.

“Momo, you’ve hardly said three words to him, what–”

“Oh, I’ve seen him before.” Toudai crossed his arms. “That’s the incompetent idiot who broke the light on my car.” Hakkai put a hand over his mouth, and Goku slid down in his chair, wishing he could die before another word was spoken. Something seemed to click for Sanzo, and he scowled across the table at Goku. Toudai, however, grabbed Goku’s shoulder. “Were you there that day? Did you see it happen? You know what he did. Honestly, you shouldn’t have to work with someone like him.”

“Mr. Toudai, please…”

“I’m serious, boy.” Toudai crossed his arms. “You don’t have anyone to intervene for you, I’ll go to the Dean of your school and ask him to move you so you can have a competent teacher.”

“I suppose,” Hakkai said, in a voice that made Goku flinch as if frost was sprouting on his arms, “that you gave him a piece of your mind.”

“Right I did.” Toudai locked gazes with Hakkai, but Goku could see something darker than anger building in Hakkai’s expression. “You’d best be warned, Hakkai, he’s another charmer, all style, no substance. You’d do better to find someone–”

Hakkai folded his napkin from his lap and stood. “Excuse me.” He pivoted and rushed for the door to chase Gojyo, and Toudai scowled.

“Does he think he’s too smart for advice?” Toudai started to turn for Goku again, but Goku couldn’t bite it back anymore.

“No.” Goku balled his fists in his lap and lowered his eyes. “No, he knows something you don’t. He knows that after you chewed Gojyo out, Gojyo stopped eating and started working longer days, and that’s why he collapsed. It wasn’t even his fault! I was the one who dropped your light and busted it, and he stood up for me ‘cause he’s a good boss!” Koumyou inhaled sharply, as Toudai sat, gobsmacked and slack-jawed. Goku shivered in his chair, but his (stupid, stupid) mouth kept going. “He did everything he could to make it up to you and you still chewed him out, and he just zoned out and started treating himself like trash, and he works too hard every day to get hurt by jerks who don’t care about his feelings, and if you’re gonna talk bad about him because of a mistake I made–” He inhaled sharply, and wheezed out the last of it. “You at least ought'a know that I’m the worthless lowlife you were talking about.” He got up, not caring that the table jerked when he did. “I gotta apologize to him.” He ran for the door after Gojyo and Hakkai, and Sanzo fixed an icy stare on Toudai.

“This explains a lot.” He dropped his napkin and strode out to follow the others, leaving Koumyou alone with Toudai at an abandoned table. Toudai was stuck staring at the space where Sanzo had been, as Koumyou slowly turned in his chair towards him, wearing a dangerous smile, bright like the coloration of a poisonous butterfly.

“Goodness! Old habits do die hard, don’t they?” Koumyou sighed reminiscently. “That temper, dear, it’s more dangerous than anything else. I’m surprised you didn’t give yourself an aneurysm.”

Toudai shrunk. “Koumyou, dear, please. Not here. Not now.”

“Oh?” Koumyou blinked, eyelashes fluttering. “Why, you were so proud of it all just a moment ago. I’m certain you showed that _worthless lowlife_ mechanic what for. No, certainly it wasn’t a mere mistake by an apprentice employee. Every time something goes wrong, someone has it out for you.”

“I was angry. I was upset. I’d gotten very bad news–”

“News you had known was inevitable, and which you have taken very poorly. I’ve been patient with you, dear, but surely you expect the entire world to grant you wide berth and stand out of your way while you grouse about and darken every room you enter.” Koumyou laced his fingers. “Yes, the world must grant you understanding. You’ve never made a mistake in your life.”

Toudai flinched. “Dearest, I–”

“And the young man, surely he was as disrespectful as could be. After all, he’s another poor boy from the far side of town, isn’t he?” Koumyou sighed, but rested his elbows on the table and stared dreamily at the opposite wall. Toudai couldn’t bring himself to look at him. “But you were having a bad day. The nearest possible target is surely the best for which to take out your frustrations. It makes no difference what kind of day, week, or life someone else has had.” Koumyou lifted his hands carelessly. “It’s not as if I spent forty years talking to young men and women raised in homes of poverty and abuse who, for example, flinched at such terrifying stimuli as the sound of a can opener. An oblong shadow. An insult from an authority figure.”

Toudai finally groaned and stood to glare down at Koumyou. “You clearly want me to do something about this! Say it outright!”

Koumyou crossed his arms, his smile not even sagging, and he spoke to Toudai with the placidity and calm, firm mien of one arguing with a toddler. “Why, darling, I never said there was a problem. But if there was some sort of problem, what is it one normally does?” Koumyou sat back and surveyed the abandoned appetizers. “Perhaps, if you did, this table wouldn’t be nearly so empty. What a shame. It’s difficult to be old and lonely.”

“Bah!” Toudai whirled on his heel and stormed for the door, and Koumyou exhaled, then flagged a waiter. The waiter gaped at the empty table with confusion but Koumyou giggled and waved a hand.

“They’ll be back. Cigarette break. May I have some more of your delightful baguette, please?”

* * *

Gojyo sucked the cigarette in like he needed nicotine to fill his lungs rather than air, and exhaled like a drowning man retching water. “Calm down,” he told himself around the filter, tugging at his hair. “He’s just a grouchy old man. He ain’t said shit to you. Just pretend he ain’t here.” He stomped his foot and dragged the rest of the way down his smoke, tugging his hair as he punctuated, “Stop screwing this up for yourself. He’s supposed to be showing you off, you goddamn fuck-up, act like an adult and–”

The last of the cigarette was knocked out of his mouth by an impact from behind, and Gojyo found Hakkai had thrown his arms around his shoulders. “'And’ what, Gojyo? Extricate yourself from a situation that was making you uncomfortable? That sounds like an adult decision.”

Gojyo cringed. “You, uh, weren’t supposed to hear that. Look, I ought'a tell you – the guy, the one who reamed me out at the shop, it’s Koumyou’s partner.”

“He told us.” Hakkai rubbed his cheek to Gojyo’s shoulder, then looped around to face Gojyo from the front. Gojyo hardly had time to stomp his cigarette out before Hakkai took both of his hands in front of him. “And I assure you, Koumyou will ensure he knows precisely how wrong he was to do that. He has a history of mistreating others, or not treating them with understanding, when he is in a foul temper.”

“Yeah?” Gojyo frowned and hung his head. “Look, I ain’t blaming this on him, not in the least. It ain’t like he’s talkin’ to me now, he’s just glaring. I know what he’s thinking, but he’s ain’t said it. Why…” He struggled for words, his tongue thick and dry in his mouth. “I don’t get…”

Hakkai clasped both of Gojyo’s hands tight between his. “You had a bad experience with him. It’s normal to react with apprehension after that. I don’t think any less of you. I’ve heard of things like this, things that cause a stress reaction, referred to as 'triggers.’ You saw someone who abused you, triggering stress and anxiety. Usually, once one is aware of things that cause these reactions, they attempt to avoid them–”

“How’m I supposed to avoid this? I can’t just wear a fucking tag around my neck saying 'Hi, my name is Gojyo, and I get nauseous when people remind me of my fucking mother!’” Gojyo had hardly realized he was saying it until it was out, and he felt his heart hit the ground when he paused, but Hakkai didn’t release Gojyo’s hands, he only shook his head.

“No. Nobody is owed an explanation for your behavior, but just the same, you can’t control them. You can do exactly what you did today. Get out of the situation, and talk to someone you trust until you recover.” Hakkai squeezed his hands again, then lifted them and kissed each of his knuckles. “There are other things you can do, coping mechanisms, but for now, just get out of there and talk to me. I’m here for you.”

“Hakkai…” Gojyo swallowed, his mouth dry, his head spinning as if he’d stepped into a fantasy. Had he hit his head again? It hardly seemed real that Hakkai could still be smiling at him. “Babe… you’re not embarrassed of me?”

“Of course not. I understand.” Hakkai tugged Gojyo’s hands and pulled him into a chaste kiss, a brush against his lips. “We never even have to see Toudai again, if you don’t want to. I’ll make our excuses and we can go anywhere you like and have our own holiday lunch.”

“But you said they were like parents to ya.” Gojyo turned back to try to see into the restaurant, but the windows had a glare that kept him from seeing in. “I want you to have a nice time with your parents. This’s your Christmas thing with them, isn’t it? I can call a cab–”

“Koumyou was like a father to me.” Hakkai sighed and released Gojyo’s hands, twiddling his thumbs and turning his gaze to the ground. “Toudai and I were cordial, he’s always been standoffish, but our relationship has cooled, particularly after he and I disagreed over… someone I was seeing.” He bit his lip, but faced Gojyo again. “I know he cares about me, but I’ve struggled to forgive him for the way he acted at that time. Koumyou is important to me, but I can arrange to see him without his partner. Would you like that?”

Before Gojyo could answer, the restaurant door open and shut again, and Goku launched himself at Gojyo. “I’m sorry!” Gojyo barely had time to ground his heels before Goku flying-jump-tackle-hugged onto him. Goku knocked him into the hedge, but clung tight as Gojyo struggled to get loose and get up. “I’m so sorry! This’s all my stupid fault, I should'a told Toudai it was me that messed up when he was reaming you out, I should'a told you he’d be here, I should'a told him off before he started givin’ you the hairy eyeball, I just didn’t want Sanzo to hate me!”

“Whoa!” Gojyo caught Goku and pushed him up and off of him. “Jeez, you damn brat, quit hogging all the blame!” Goku whined, until Sanzo came up behind him and yanked him back.

“This is why you weren’t talking to me, is it? My dad chewed you out through him, and your decision was to hide it from me?”

Goku choked. “I thought you’d hate me if he told you. I thought–”

“You thought wrong, you goddamned moron.” Sanzo clapped his hands on Goku’s forearms, holding him fast. “I would have chewed his fucking ass right back. He doesn’t have the fucking right to talk to you like that. Nobody does.” He was scowling, but Goku couldn’t tell who he was angry at.

“I would'a told you, but they’re your dads.” He hung his head. “I figured… if you had to choose a side…”

“I’d listen to both sides first, call the lot of you morons, and back you up if you’re in the right.” Sanzo planted his palm on Goku’s head. “Remember that. I don’t care if he’s my father. If he’s wrong, he’s wrong, and the motherfucker was wrong.” He then shot a harsh look to Gojyo. “That’s for you, too. The motherfucker was goddamn wrong to pull that shit.”

Gojyo faintly realized that Sanzo was actually being supportive. He nodded, and Hakkai squeezed his shoulder and spoke gently. “Now, then.” He looked between Sanzo and Goku, and donned a mischievous smile. “Do we want to tell them we’re leaving, or should we just run for the hills?”

Sanzo let go of Goku and pivoted for the door. “I’ll let Koumyou know we’re blowing this popsicle stand and give Toudai the finger for all of us.” He went to open the door, but the door opened before he got to the handle, and Toudai stepped out. Sanzo scowled. “Saving me the trouble?”

Toudai studied Sanzo for a moment, then put a hand on his shoulder. “Son, I’ve caused my share of trouble for a lifetime, it’s high time I made amends.” He pushed through Sanzo as if he were a swinging door and grounded himself in front of Gojyo. Gojyo broke a step away from Hakkai, and Toudai surveyed him, head to toe, then extended a hand. “Perhaps I should introduce myself properly. I’m Toudai Sanzo, and I have made a massive error in judgment.”

Gojyo hesitated, but took and shook Toudai’s hand. “It’s okay. I understand why you were upset. You, uh, went a little overboard, though.”

“You understate.” Toudai clasped his hands in front of him. “You were doing the right thing in standing up for your junior employee, and it was, as you said, merely a mistake. I was inconvenienced, but you did everything in your power to make up for it. I still chose to denigrate and insult you, and for that, I owe you an apology.” Toudai’s expression was stern, but earnest, and he held Gojyo’s gaze. “I am sincerely sorry. I deeply regret that my temper caused you stress.”

Gojyo felt a little lost, not sure what to do with his hands, his body, his mouth. Finally, he gathered his wits to reply. “Um.” He clearly hadn’t gathered enough of them, so he tried again, “It’s okay. I’m, uh, not mad at'cha. But… thank you.” He wasn’t sure those were the right words, but from Toudai’s expression, it was good enough. Toudai then turned to Goku, and his eyebrows knit up.

“Goku, I hurt you. I may not have known I was doing so, but I did, and I’m terribly sorry. I should show a little more grace around my son’s close friend. Do you think you can forgive me?”

Goku frantically shook his head. “I’m not upset with you, Mr. Toudai! I, I just…”

“You’re allowed to be upset with me.” Toudai’s wrinkles looked deeper than ever. “I’d merely like you not to think less of me.”

Goku’s lower lip wiggled, but he puffed his chest out and threw his shoulders back. “It’s okay. I’m not gonna stay mad. Just, maybe, never do it again?” Toudai smiled wryly and rested his hand on Goku’s shoulder.

“I’m an old man with bad habits, but I’ll try.” He then looked between Hakkai and Sanzo. “Boys, I am proud of you for standing up for those you care about. I’ve wronged both of you, and both of them, and for that I’m sorry. Will you please come back inside and visit with Koumyou for a while?”

Hakkai and Sanzo locked gazes for a moment. Hakkai shrugged, and Sanzo tossed his head back, set his hands on his hips, and glowered at Toudai. “If Goku’s fine with it, so am I.”

Hakkai took Gojyo’s hand. “Are you feeling up to it?” He squeezed, and smiled in his usual, neutral way. Gojyo squeezed Hakkai’s hand back.

“I think so. 'Sides, that food smelled pretty darn good.” He let Hakkai lead him back into the building, following after Sanzo, Goku, and Toudai.

Koumyou had waited, his eyes closed as if in meditation, but when the others re-entered, he perked up. “Goodness, here I was worried your soup would get cold! Gojyo, dear, sit by me, it’s much warmer on the inside.”

“Oh, uh.” Gojyo glanced to Hakkai, who nodded approvingly, and he leaned in to switch his silverware and water with Gojyo’s place settings and full bowl, and everyone else returned to their places. Koumyou put his thin, sinewy hand over the back of Gojyo’s arm as he sat.

“It had completely slipped my mind that you were Goku’s employer and teacher! In fact, he was the one who told us you were seeing Hakkai in the first place.” Gojyo shot a frown towards Goku, but Koumyou grabbed and squeezed his fingers. “How has business been, dear?”

“Uh, well.” Gojyo rubbed the back of his head, but Hakkai cleared his throat.

“Koumyou, let him eat.”

“Ah! Of course!” Koumyou released his hand, and Gojyo took up his spoon, but smiled at Koumyou.

“It’s just a garage. Ain’t much to say. I’m the only mechanic, except my apprentice, there, so usually I can only run two bays at a time, and if the shop’s open, I’m there.” He picked up his spoon. “It keeps me out of trouble, though, and I’m right near Hakkai, which is awesome.”

“I like to visit him and bring him breakfast and lunch,” Hakkai added, allowing Gojyo to put the spoon in his mouth and swallow.

It was good. Koumyou’s friendly approval and Hakkai’s support was even better, and Toudai’s wan smile as Goku helpfully started to exhort Gojyo’s skill at installing transmissions helped put the floor back under him.

The meal was cordial and friendly after that, light conversation. Goku, who had remained unusually quiet for most of the meal despite prodding from Sanzo, announced that he had passed most of his classes that he’d gotten grades back on, and Sanzo told Gojyo that (despite Hakkai’s recent absence, so he said with a glare he didn’t mean) they had done well above their financial goals and had been nominated for the local newspaper’s awards for best new restaurant and best desserts. (“That just means we’ll have to promote our breads so they get nominated next year,” Hakkai giggled, to which Sanzo rolled his eyes in response.) As they shared around pastries, Koumyou tapped his spoon to his wine glass.

“I have an announcement to make.” Toudai’s eyes widened with panic, but Koumyou shook his head and smiled around at the four younger men. “I’ve decided to renew my license and reopen my private practice counseling office.”

Sanzo inhaled sharply, but Hakkai clapped his hands to his mouth. “Oh, you’re coming out of retirement?”

“I am, yes.” Koumyou’s smile brightened. “I enjoy running the shop, and I might only see three to five clients a week, but I miss the work. I was reminded today of just how much more there is I can do.” Toudai looked dismayed, even as Koumyou wrote his phone number down on a bit of paper he had in his pocket and handed it to Gojyo. “If you know anyone who may need some form of counseling, I’d be honored if you would refer them to me. I promise my prices are very fair, and for the right client, I’ll happily waive my fees.”

Gojyo could hear what Koumyou wasn’t saying: _You obviously need help. Here it is._ He remembered when Jien had tried to head-shrink him, and how mad he’d gotten that Jien thought _he_ was the one who was fucked up. However, Hakkai was watching him, staring with a mix of trepidation and expectation, and if anything, today had showed him that yeah, maybe he was a little fucked up. He tucked the paper Koumyou had given him into his wallet. “Thanks, I’ll remember that.” Koumyou’s expression brightened, and he squeezed Gojyo’s hand.

“Now, put that wallet away, this is my treat.” He winked at Gojyo. “Just like it’s been a treat to meet you. Hakkai, please bring him around again.”

“I will.” Hakkai beamed, and Gojyo’s heart swelled.

Koumyou actually seemed to like him, and now that Toudai had gotten over himself, he had tolerated him with stoic patience. Hakkai’s 'family’ liked him. He felt bolstered, stronger, like he’d gotten something that had been taken from him back.

A light snow had started to drift down from the sky as they left, and though Sanzo ushered Toudai and Koumyou towards his car, Koumyou held Toudai’s arm and waved Sanzo off. “No, dear, we’ll call a cab. Get Goku home safely, don’t worry about us.” He winked at Goku, but Gojyo had seen enough of Goku and Sanzo’s interactions that day (Sanzo scowling, Goku nervous, and barely speaking through the back half of the meal) to know that the pair of them probably needed to have a conversation and Koumyou was trying to give them the space to have it. Hakkai frowned and looked at his car.

“I’m afraid my car only really seats two, otherwise I’d offer you a ride.”

“It’s fine, dear.” Koumyou flapped his hand like a coquette with a fan, even as Sanzo stood at the driver’s side door and crossed his arms. “You get home, don’t worry about us! We’re tough fellows, we can handle an Uber.”

“Fine.” Sanzo opened the door and waited for Goku to get in, but Goku paused to wave and call friendly farewells to Toudai and Koumyou, then clambered into the car, immediately looking tense again. Gojyo didn’t envy him.

It was hard to worry about him when he had it so much better.

“We had a lovely meal,” Hakkai remarked in his usual mild way, as Gojyo fastened his seat belt and settled in the car. “I only wish it hadn’t started so… er, uncomfortably.”

“Yeah, well. Goku should'a maybe warned me, but I think he was kinda stuck too.” Gojyo smoothed his hair back. “He never had parents, y'know, so I guess when he’s around someone else’s, he wants 'em to like him.”

“I think anyone would like their partner’s parents to like them.” Hakkai pulled out, tipping his gaze to the mirror to see Koumyou and Toudai one more time. “I think, however, that when it comes to complicated family situations like all of ours, it’s best to take care of oneself first.”

“Stuff’s messy in the Sanzo household, is it?” Gojyo curled his hands in his pockets, frowning at the snow falling outside. “I guess it ain’t none of my business. Mr. Koumyou’s, uh, announcement, do you think Mr. Toudai and Sanzo knew?”

Hakkai’s sealed mouth worked for a moment, jaw shifting left and right, as he mulled it over. “I imagine,” he finally said, carefully, “Based on his reaction, Toudai knew, and has been trying to talk him out of it. Sanzo was surprised.”

“Huh.” Gojyo fished his wallet out and looked at the scrap of paper Koumyou had given him with his number on it. Koumyou had also drawn a smiling bunny rabbit face next to it, with 'Call me!’ scrawled under it. “So, you think he meant it?”

“I do.” Hakkai put his hand over Gojyo’s knee. “And I think it may not be the worst idea. I can teach you a few of the coping mechanisms he taught me after my sister passed, but I think he can teach you things more tailored to your situation. He is the least judgmental person I know, and despite seeming a little spacy, he genuinely wants to help everyone who crosses his path.” Hakkai caught Gojyo’s eye and winked. “It’s something I would do for you if I could. Will you consider it for me?”

Somehow, Gojyo was falling head over heels all over again. “I’ll think about it. Maybe once I get that new guy hired.” He slung his arm around Hakkai’s chair, stretching out in the tiny cab space as much as he could. “So, uh, did you wanna take me back to my place, or would you rather take me home?”

“If you’re feeling up to it, I was thinking we could go make sugar cookies together.” Hakkai beamed, even as he returned his eyes to the road. “I even purchased cookie cutters shaped like card suits, just for you.”

“In honor of all the times you kicked my ass at poker?” Gojyo laughed and kicked his legs out in the foot space under the glove compartment, feeling truly, completely at ease for the first time in days. “Sounds like Christmas to me.”

With family and comfort and joy, it really did.


	23. Comfort and Joy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gojyo and Hakkai spend the holiday with Gojyo’s family, and Gojyo gives Hakkai a very special gift.

**23: Comfort and Joy**

Christmas mornings had been like every other morning for a while now, but this one was different. This one came with a layer of snow across the lawn, covering the straw and dried pine boughs in his garden, Gojyo’s heavy arm slung over his chest as Gojyo smiled his way through the last of his sugarplum dreams, and his cellphone ringing. Hakkai groped out to grab his glasses first, then the phone. Strangeness upon strangeness, whatever could Jien be calling him for?

He got out of bed and into the hallway before answering. “Good morning, Jien. Is something the matter?”

“Good morning, Hakkai. Uh.” Jien paused, and Hakkai heard a rustle of the receiver on the other end being covered with a hand. A few seconds later, Jien got back on the line. “Listen, I really hate to do this to ya, but I need a gigantic favor.”

“I may be able to help.”

“I’d hoped so.” Jien paused, clearly still of two minds as to whether to go on or what to say next. Then, he sighed and muttered, “Uh, so, Gojyo mentioned my wife was a little sick, right?”

“He said she had been having a sensitive stomach, and requested a gentler dessert.” Hakkai thought fondly of the vanilla custard pie he had setting up in the refrigerator, which he had made with Gojyo the night before (or, really, he had made while Gojyo awkwardly shuffled around the kitchen and watched as Hakkai rolled out and baked pie dough, cooked the custard, and filled the shell while waiting for his chance to wash the pots and pans). “Er, is she unwell today?”

Jien made a frustrated noise, and finally muttered, “She’s been sick for a few weeks, but today she’s worse than usual. I mean, it’s bad. She’s been able to eat nothing but peanut butter on white bread and plain white rice for the past two days, she can’t cook because the smell of cooking food makes her feel sick, and when Kougaiji and I tried to start the turkey for today, she couldn’t even stomach the smell of the herbs.”

Hakkai frowned. “I see. If you need to take her to the hospital, then–”

“She called her doctor yesterday, he said it sounds like her nausea’s just particularly bad, and that as long as she can still eat something, just to wait it out.” Jien paused again, as Hakkai drew the lines between all the dots with a single snap of his synapses.

“I see. Oh, my.” Hakkai leaned against the wall between the bathroom door and the stairs. “What can I do? Did you want to reschedule, or cancel, or suggest an alternative?” He could see Gojyo starting to rouse as he discovered the empty cold spot Hakkai had left behind, just as Jien heaved another sigh.

“I was thinking we might bring something she can eat separate, since she really wants to be around, but if we give you our ingredients, could you cook at your place and maybe bring it back so Yaone doesn’t have to smell it cooking?”

“Is that all?” Hakkai smiled with relief. “It’s not a problem in the least. I’ll even happily provide food Yaone can eat and air out the house so there are no strong food scents. I can come and pick everything up right now, I just need your address and my slippers.”

Gojyo sat up as Hakkai returned for his slippers, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “'Kai? What’s goin’ on? S'kinda cold without you.” Gojyo rubbed the empty patch of bed next to him, smirking, but Hakkai giggled and shook his head.

“Sorry, but I have to go get the ingredients from your brother. You and I are cooking Christmas dinner. Apparently, your sister-in-law’s morning sickness is bad to the point where she can’t stomach the scent of food.”

“Oh. Jien told you?” Gojyo roused completely at that, and found himself grinning at the thought. Hakkai’s expression was one of approval.

“I  pieced it together, and you just confirmed.” He smiled coyly as he fished out a pair of socks, not quite looking at Gojyo. “When is she due?”

“Late June, July-ish.” Gojyo realized what Hakkai had said. “Shit, don’t tell him I spilled!”

“I won’t. I imagine they’ll mention it later, all things considered.” Hakkai pulled his slippers on. “I’m going to need your help to pull together Christmas dinner for six on short notice, even if your brother gives me the ingredients I need.“

"You got it.” Gojyo swung his legs out from the bed and patted his feet around, feeling for the slippers Hakkai had loaned him. “Can I do anything now? Coffee? Breakfast?”

“Mm, breakfast is ready, I just need to warm it up in the oven. A pot of coffee, however, sounds delightful.” Hakkai turned to cup Gojyo’s cheek in his palm, then subtly turned his face so he could easily sink into a warm ‘good-morning’ kiss.

Gojyo had been sleeping at his home for the last week after being cleared to return to work, but Hakkai was much happier to fall asleep at his side and wake up being used as a personal body pillow. He was warm when Gojyo was next to him, and there was never enough quiet for him to allow himself to sink back into the solitude he’d lived under after Kanan’s death. He hardly even remembered the previous year’s Christmas. Had he done anything? He faintly recalled being alone the entire day. Maybe Sanzo and Sharak had called to wish him a Merry Christmas. Maybe Sanzo had invited him to join his family, which Hakkai knew he would have declined. He hadn’t even given a single thought to what he would do this year until Gojyo asked, and only now was he really relishing the thought of a holiday feast. None of that would be nearly as sweet, however, as such a pleasant wake up.

Hakkai let Gojyo kiss him like he might not get to share such a moment with him ever again, and drew back, smiling, then dabbed his mouth dry. “I’ll be back. Try not to cause too much trouble, alright? And no snooping.”

Mischief flashed over Gojyo’s face and set in his grin. “Ooh, you hid some stuff around here, huh? Any of it for me?”

“Perhaps.” Hakkai kissed Gojyo’s forehead and turned to depart. Gojyo clambered out of bed after him and saw him to the door to wave him off, and as Hakkai drove off into the morning flurries, he stood on the porch in his boxer shorts and watched him go. While Hakkai’s first instinct was to roll his window down and chide him that he’ll catch cold, his second was to hope he might still be there, just like that, when he got back. His third, and the option he settled on, was to think of how nice it would be to see that more often and keep that feeling in his breast.

* * *

Jien provided everything Hakkai had wanted, and when Hakkai got back, it was to find Gojyo had poured coffee and set out the milk, and that the house smelled of cinnamon. “You didn’t tell me you’d made oatmeal muffins.” Gojyo grinned as he reached into the oven, but Hakkai tapped his shoulder.

“Oven mitt, please.” He handed Gojyo a mitt, which Gojyo sheepishly stuffed his hand into before pulling out the plate Hakkai had left in the oven. “And I did, of course. I’m glad you knew to warm them up.”

“I listen to you, babe.” Gojyo grinned. “I listen to you real good.”

“You listen well,” Hakkai corrected instinctively, before noticing that Gojyo had left another surprise on the kitchen table: “Is that a tree?”

It decidedly was not, but it was shaped like one. Hakkai approached the little potted shrub decorated with a string of popcorn and what appeared to be an origami balloon folded out of an advertisement, as Gojyo poured himself a fresh cup of coffee to hide his big, confident grin. He recognized the scent the moment he got close. “Rosemary?”

“Yeah, it looks kinda like a Christmas tree, but it smells better. I thought, maybe a little tree would be nice, plus you can keep it. I know you’ve fed me stuff with rosemary in it, and now you have some, fresh. We can put presents under it, if there are any presents.” Gojyo winked, and Hakkai giggled and returned to his side to squeeze his hand.

“It’s a very thoughtful gift, Gojyo.”

“Well...” Gojyo paused and drained his coffee, then kissed Hakkai’s cheek. “I’m always tryin’ to think of ways to make you happy.”

“I’m fairly easy to please, you’ll find.” Hakkai turned to rub his nose against Gojyo’s. “For example, if you would help me peel some potatoes and onions once we’ve enjoyed our breakfast, I would be very happy with you.”

Gojyo wasn’t very good in the kitchen. He often seemed a little dumbfounded when Hakkai mentioned basic tasks, like boiling rice or dicing a vegetable. Hakkai could break down the steps, and Gojyo would follow them rote, but his knife cuts were uneven and he had to be reminded of things like the ratios of water to rice or to turn the heat down when you didn’t want to boil all the water off. Hakkai took a little pride in trying to teach him, even if Gojyo got flustered when he made a mistake or tried to pretend his way was better when something he’d made a mistake on went right anyway (or even if it didn’t). Hakkai was fine with laughing it off, especially because his patience with Gojyo was so well rewarded when Gojyo got a task right and Hakkai got another excuse to praise him. Hakkai also knew there were things Gojyo could do reliably. He could “use this peeler and take the skins off,” or “pull all of the papery brown skin off with your hand.” Hakkai could easily set him at that with the promise of a kiss on the cheek, and begin the real work.

For his own tasks, he didn’t need to break down things, like “cook down the giblets with aromatics to make stock for the dressing and basting liquid for the turkey. While that’s going, rinse out the inside of the bird, then wash the herbs and tie a bouquet garni for the cavity. Trim the bird, dress the skin with olive oil, salt, pepper, and rubbed sage, and insert the bouquet garni and some roughly chopped onion into the cavity.” The turkey was in the pan, dressed and ready, before Gojyo had even finished the first pound of potatoes, as Hakkai broke out his second cutting board to chop fresh aromatics for the dressing. Gojyo turned from the peelings and his little knife to whistle at Hakkai’s progress.

“How do you do all that?”

“I’m a professional.”

“Damn right.” Gojyo grinned broadly. “Still impresses me, every time I see you do it.” He peered into the bird’s cavity and pursed his lips. “So, is that the stuffing?”

Hakkai wrinkled his nose at the thought as he fished into the bags Jien had given him. “I got food poisoning from undercooked stuffing as a child. When you have a large, meaty turkey packed full of wet bread and mushrooms, the chef must choose between cooking the turkey to doneness without drying the meat out, or cooking the stuffing completely and serving turkey jerky.” Hakkai laid out his aromatics, carrots and celery, and took the onions Gojyo had peeled for him. “I prefer dressing, cooked outside of the bird but flavored with the giblets. If I really want the drippings, I can mix them in later.” Gojyo stood back as Hakkai took to the vegetables with his butcher knife, admiring his every move. Hakkai basked as he felt his keen observation.

“You amaze me, y'know?” Gojyo stuffed his hands in his pockets, all warmth and mirth. “You know so much, and you can do so much. I burnt stove-top ramen once and set the kitchen on fire 'cause I tried to add the seasoning packet while the water was boiling, and – and here you are, smooth as butter, just, everywhere at once, putting together everything so neat and perfect, like you do it every day. You have any idea how sexy that confidence is?”

Hakkai felt heat rush to his face. “Oh, come now.”

“Seriously, babe,” Gojyo insisted, grinning wickedly, “you have to know how amazing it is to me. How you look, just whippin’ around through there. Like, you don’t even have to go for the naked apron to be sexy in there.”

Hakkai bowed his head to hide the roaring blush and pretended he was intently focused on dicing his vegetables. “I, er, was actually very nervous doing that. And really, I’ve been cooking for years, and I am a professional baker. It’s all practice.”

Gojyo slipped his hands around Hakkai’s waist. “I couldn’t even tell you were nervous, y'know. All I saw was a gorgeous man, gliding through the kitchen.”

Hakkai set his knife down carefully, then turned around in Gojyo’s arms, coming nose to nose with him. “You realize that between the two of us, you are much smoother. Nobody else can sweet-talk me quite like you do, and when you talk about things you know, you impress me immensely. I love the sound of your voice, especially when you’re confident.” He slid his palms down the broadest part of Gojyo’s back. “And really, you bring out the romantic in me. I don’t impress anybody when I’m all by my lonesome.”

“Maybe I ought'a be around more often.” Gojyo rubbed his cheek to Hakkai’s, his stubble brushing Hakkai’s smooth cheek. Hakkai closed his eyes and let Gojyo hold him.

When Gojyo said things like that, Hakkai added another little mark in a list he’d kept in his mind, “signs that he wants to stay forever.” He wondered how many hints and scraps of evidence it would take for him to convince himself that Gojyo was truly as good as his word.

How much would it take for him to give in and accept that this was real, he’d found something he couldn’t possibly deserve, and that Gojyo wanted to give it to him? He’d thought he’d accepted a life of loneliness with the past three dreary Christmases, but this year, he had somehow found warmth and hope. Could he possibly let himself have that again?

More and more, he was convinced that Gojyo would give it to him, all wrapped up with a bow. He just wasn’t sure he could let himself pull the ribbon.

* * *

Christmas dinner was cooking away in the oven, the turkey already golden brown and beautiful, the dressing (Hakkai insisted, “not stuffing,” but to Gojyo, soggy bread mush was soggy bread mush and tasty no matter how you sliced it) roasting in a butter-lined pan, and it seemed every time Gojyo turned around, another gift had appeared under the “tree.” He also happened to notice that not all of them had tags with his name on them.

“You got stuff for Jien, Kougaiji, Yaone, and Lirin?” He’d come back in from a smoke break to find four matching packages, and Hakkai stirring a pot of boiling potatoes. “Man, I just got them all gift cards.”

“Ah, really?” Hakkai glanced back, pretending he hadn’t seen the gifts there before. “Santa must have known they’d be coming here in advance.” He beamed, and returned to his task. Gojyo smirked to himself, and fished into his jacket pocket.

“Well, 'Santa’ is clearly real good at going around behind my back.”

“Oh, Gojyo, you wound me.” Hakkai laughed. “I made them presents, yes.”

“Made?”

“I crochet. I happened to have some spare time recently while I was hosting a houseguest who fell asleep frequently, so I found my old hooks and yarn to keep myself busy while I was in the house watching him sleep.” Gojyo’s cheeks got hot at the reminder of how he’d gotten laid low, but as Hakkai lifted one of the packages to adjust the tape, Gojyo knew Hakkai was only being coy. Hakkai was never mean to him, never said stuff just to make him feel bad. He teased, yes, but it was always good-natured. Hakkai did his best to spread his smile wherever he looked.

Gojyo had started to pick up on some of the little subtleties in Hakkai’s expression, the differences between the smiles that masked his mood and those that were truly, deeply happy. His resting smile was nice, but those deeper smiles soothed something in Gojyo’s soul. He would do anything for that smile. Things like bringing home a rosemary plant that looked like a Christmas tree, or helping without complaint to do everything he could. He knew how much he owed Hakkai, and wondered what more he could do.

Hakkai always seemed to have some way to make him happy. Gojyo couldn’t let himself fall short.

With the meal cooking away, Hakkai threw on an old movie and made hot chocolate, and Gojyo basked in the quiet contentment he got from Hakkai. The house soon smelled like what Gojyo thought Heaven smelled like, but Hakkai went to open a window, saying, “I wouldn’t want your poor sister-in-law to become nauseated. I do hope the taste is mild enough for her.” It was just as he’d gotten the house aired out (and chilly enough that Gojyo insisted on nesting in the blankets) that there was a knock on the door.

Both Hakkai and Gojyo went to answer it, and Gojyo grinned to find Jien at the door with Yaone at his side. Yaone, though pale-lipped and looking faint, was the first to take Hakkai’s hand. “It’s lovely to meet you, Mr. Cho.”

“Ah, you must be Yaone. Hakkai is fine, please–”

A shrill voice chimed in from behind them: “Ooh, is that Handsome Bakery Man?”

Hakkai laughed as Gojyo shot Lirin a scolding look over Jien’s shoulder where she and someone else were getting things out of the car. “Handsome Bakery Man is acceptable too.” He stepped aside to let them through. “Please, come in, I’ll put some tea on in a moment.”

As Yaone and Jien passed, Gojyo caught Jien’s eye, grinned and mouthed a greeting, and Jien smirked and mussed Gojyo’s hair. Gojyo hardly had time to push it back into place before Kougaiji and Lirin approached.

Gojyo hadn’t actually seen Kougaiji in years. He’d heard him on the phone with Lirin when he called her at the shop, but he hadn’t seen his brother-in-law since the argument. He hadn’t changed much: same thin face, same olive complexion, same reddish hair trapped in a bun. He looked as tired as always, but he had a thin smile for Gojyo. “It’s good to see you again.” He laid a hand on Gojyo’s shoulder, then turned to Hakkai. “And it’s nice to meet you, er–” Kougaiji paused, only for Lirin to helpfully supply:

“Handsome Bakery Man.”

“Hakkai.” Hakkai shook Kougaiji’s hand. “And yes, nice to meet you as well. It’s my understanding that you and Miss Yaone are both espoused to Jien?” Kougaiji stiffened, then gave a curt nod. “Ah, good. I was worried I misunderstood.”

“No.” Kougaiji shook his head. “It seems you understand better than most, really.” He glanced to Gojyo, then back to Hakkai. “I’ve only heard about you from my partners, but it seems you’re as good as I was told. Thank you for hosting us.”

“It’s no trouble, really; I enjoy the company.”

“Hey!” Lirin lurched past Hakkai, yanking Kougaiji’s hand. “He’s got Rudolph on!” Kougaiji squawked indignantly as Lirin dragged him in, and Hakkai laughed as he shut the door behind him. Jien had settled Yaone on the sofa, and Kougaiji and Lirin took the armchair and floor beside the chair, respectively. Gojyo laughed, and thumbed to indicate Lirin.

“Kougaiji’s little sister. She’s the one who keeps sending Goku over for the girl drinks.”

“Ah.” Hakkai stifled a little giggle, then crossed past Gojyo and spoke to the room. “Let me get some tea on. Does anyone have any preferences? Miss Yaone, might I suggest green tea with ginger, lemon, and mint?” Yaone perked with interest as he passed her towards the kitchen and craned her neck around after him.

“Oh, that does sound good.” She laced her fingers, smiling brightly, and as Hakkai turned, Gojyo draped himself over the back of the sofa next to Jien to make conversation. Hakkai reflected, as he fetched up his kettle, on the last time Christmas had been anyone other than himself, and when the faces were both more familiar and very, very different.

_It was snowing, and she was bundled in his favorite green afghan watching “It’s a Wonderful Life” with a mug of cocoa in her hands. He set a plate of cookies on the table for her and kissed her cheek. “Enjoying your Christmas off, sis?”_

_Kanan giggled and kissed his cheek in return. “It’s nice to be home.” Her green eyes, a mirror to his, seemed to shine brighter in the white light from outside, like the boughs of an evergreen against a blizzard, and Hakkai felt himself glow in her presence. “Where’s Nii? Wasn’t he going to come join us? His cocoa’s gone cold.” Kanan motioned to the mug left on the coffee table, and Hakkai followed her gesture and pursed his lips._

“ _He said he was grading papers, and that he’d join us when he was done.” He eased off of the back of the sofa and turned towards the stairs, narrowing his eyes as he thought. “But I think perhaps that can wait. Hold tight.” He kissed her cheek again, then tiptoed up the stairs._

_The room across from the master bedroom had been his and Kanan’s when they had lived here with Grandmother, sharing bunk beds in what must have been meant to be a closet, but since Grandmother had passed , Hakkai had taken the master for himself and made his old bedroom into an office. Nii had worn a groove in the old wooden chair Hakkai had given him, where he was hunched over even now, a book open on one side of his desk, his laptop computer layered with term papers nearly entirely blotted out by red ink, and as Hakkai propped his shoulder against the door, Nii gave a deep sigh like the exhale of a dragon. “Lord, what fools these mortals be. In such a hurry to go celebrate their meaningless days that they rush the end of their education for the semester.”_

“ _Nii.” Hakkai folded his arms. “To some of us, days like December 25 th are not meaningless. They’re meant for quiet enjoyment with those you care about. For example, I care about you. Come downstairs, drink cocoa, and watch trite moralistic movies with us, or there’ll be nothing left but eggnog.”_

“ _Because my lover wants me to spend my Boxing Day locked in his bathroom.” Nii turned in the chair and smirked at Hakkai, quirking an eyebrow behind his greasy glasses. He spread his knees a little and planted his hands on his thighs. “So, you want me to go spend time with 'us,’ or with you? Because I’m much more inclined to spend time with you. 'Us’ is not nearly as interesting.”_

“ _I disagree.” Hakkai took the bait and sauntered into the room and trapped Nii’s hand under his, his fingertips brushing the inside of his thighs, and put his nose close to Nii’s. “I think I enjoy my time with everyone I care about, as much as I enjoy the time we have alone together.” Nii chuckled and swung his leg up around to lock the backs of Hakkai’s knees in._

“ _I do too. In fact, we’re alone right now, if you would rather enjoy that than going back to your silly sister.” He snaked a hand up Hakkai’s spine, arching up to meet him and cupping the base of his skull to lure him into a kiss. Hakkai, helpless at his touch, leaned in and let Nii slip past the seam of his lips, ever under his defenses, and let him claim his mouth with a few deep kisses. Then, all at once, he nipped the tip of Nii’s tongue with his front teeth and lightly slapped his cheek._

“ _My sister is a welcome guest. Come sit with me, do your boring paper grading later, and we can fool around later.” He broke easily from Nii’s trap, pushing his leg aside, and sauntered out of the room. He could keenly feel Nii watching him, and felt the air shift as Nii rose to follow him._

“ _Hmm. Just Kanan? My father didn’t call?”_

“ _No.” Hakkai bit his lip. “But we can have a nice Christmas for ourselves.”_

_Nii chuckled to himself and followed Hakkai down the stairs. “So we will.”_

_Nii settled on his left side and took his hand in his, Kanan cuddled up to his right and squeezed his palm in her thin fingers, and he had his Christmas peace in the somber whiteness of a drab day, between the last fragment of his family and the one person he’d found who would humor him…_

“Hakkai?” The kettle was whistling, and Gojyo peered into the kitchen. Hakkai jumped and pivoted in place, and forced a smile. He could hear the faint hum of conversation from the den, but Gojyo closed in as Hakkai realized he’d been staring at his palms as the kettle had come to a boil. “Hey, you okay?”

“Ah, sorry. Reminiscing.” Hakkai quickly poured the tea into the mugs over tea bags and powdered cocoa, splashing the counter as he went. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had company for Christmas.”

“Huh. Really?”

“Yes.” Hakkai bit his lip as he dropped a slice of ginger into one of the cups and chased it with a squeeze of lemon. “Er, after my sister passed…” He couldn’t summon another word, until Gojyo slipped his arms around and took Hakkai’s hands, making him drop the lemon slice. 

“Hey. You’re shaking, babe.” He let go of one of Hakkai’s hands and let him turn so they could make eye contact. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be nervous. Lemme help, okay?” Gojyo grinned and took the handles of two of the cups of cocoa in one hand. “These are for Lirin and me, yeah?” He gathered two of the tea cups. “And these are for Kou and Jien? Once we get the drinks sorted, I think I heard your phone ringing, and I might'a seen Goku’s name pop up in your missed call alerts.”

“Ah.” Hakkai picked up the last two mugs, one for him and the one for Yaone (dressed just the way he used to make it for Kanan, before everything truly went to hell) and followed Gojyo in, smiling as he rejoined the festivities.

After a phone call returned to Goku, one that was answered with a loud and off-key rendition of “We Wish You A Merry Christmas” and followed by an eager recounting of the gifts everyone had given each other, which turned into a brief conversation with Sanzo that was quickly hijacked by Koumyou, briefly interrupted by Toudai, and finally concluded with fond farewells, Hakkai and Gojyo settled down to enjoy Christmas movies with the family. Hakkai found Lirin’s bombast distracting but endearing enough. Kougaiji was quiet and sedate but spoke with a lot of care for his partners (and a lot of paternal scolding for Lirin), and Yaone, when her color returned, giggled and teased the others. Jien was exactly as friendly, if rough around the edges, as Hakkai had suspected he might be when he wasn’t sick with worry. Gojyo snug at his side made everything complete.

They shared dinner, which was deeply appreciated by all parties. Jien gaped at the carved bird as Hakkai brought it out, remarking, “That looks better than anything we could have put together. You sure you used our ingredients?” Kougaiji offered his compliments and helped to serve everyone before himself, urging Hakkai to sit and relax. Lirin and Gojyo ate seconds and thirds, and though Yaone mostly nibbled at a plain roll and some mashed potatoes Hakkai had left with minimal seasoning, she took a piece of the white meat with an eager smile and didn’t bolt from the table gagging upon eating it.  The custard pie was appreciated by all, and did not survive Lirin’s enthusiastic sweet tooth, even though Yaone only took a sliver. Finally, Hakkai drew everyone’s attention to Gojyo’s “tree” and the presents underneath.

Jien, Kougaiji, and Yaone had gotten Gojyo clothes: sweaters, slacks, and socks. Hakkai couldn’t help but giggle as Gojyo unfolded the thick beige cable-knit sweater Kougaiji had picked for him, and when Gojyo shot him a bewildered little look, Hakkai explained: “It seems like everyone other than me gets you warm weather clothes. Goku and Sanzo got you winter wear for your birthday, I recall.”

“That’s no surprise,” Yaone giggled from her place. “For as long as I’ve known him, Gojyo’s been the type to forget gloves, hats, and scarves, even when he’s being sent out to shovel snow.” Gojyo’s face turned as red as his hair.

“Hey, I ain’t that bad!”

“He doesn’t feel how cold it is,” Kougaiji added, smirking, “until his fingertips and nose go blue.”

Jien chose this moment to add, “He’s also pretty bad about getting himself new stuff, and just keeps wearing shirts and pants with holes because they’re 'mostly good.'”

“Come on, in front of my guy!” Gojyo moaned and put his face in his hands, and Hakkai laughed and patted his shoulder.

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” He chose not to say he’d had a feeling Gojyo was exactly that kind of man. “I think absolutely no less of you.”

It seemed like Gojyo had tried to tip his family off to Hakkai’s preferences, as they passed him four distinctly-book shaped packages. Lirin had given him a book of unique cookie recipes, but the others had gotten him some of the year’s bestseller novels. He passed around their gifts, matching scarves and hats in red and white, customized with their names and snowflake patterns, and all of them reacted happily. Finally, Hakkai passed his gift to Gojyo.

“I’m afraid I thought along the same lines as the others,” he remarked, as Gojyo started to tear away the paper. He saw crimson and green yarn, and laughed as he pulled the wrapping off.

“Aw, really?” Gojyo pulled out a dark red sweater with green zig-zag accents. “You made this for me?”

“I did.” Hakkai slid a hand onto Gojyo’s leg. “I wanted to keep you warm.”

“Shit,” he laughed, then yanked the sweater down over his tee-shirt over his head. “I can’t say a damn thing to that.” The sweater fit nicely, a little snug around the collar but cozy and warm. He normally wouldn’t wear a sweater like this, but this one was made just for him, just like the repairs Hakkai had made to his jacket. Love in every stitch. Then, it was time to face the music. He took Hakkai’s hand in his, lifted it to his mouth and kissed his knuckles, then looked him in the eye. “So, uh, your present.” He glanced over to the rosemary shrub, where there were no boxes left. Gojyo took a deep breath, and squeezed his hand. “I got somethin’ in mind, okay? I just want you to be able to pick it out for yourself or veto the idea, okay? If you don’t like my idea, I’ll do somethin’ else for ya.” He laughed and squeezed Hakkai’s hand. “You’ve got everything, y'know? You have a home, and you got lots of nice stuff in it, and I don’t think I could buy clothes for ya, and I knew they were getting you books. It’s hard to think of somethin’ for the guy who’s got it all.”

“Oh.” Hakkai felt his cheeks take heat and color, and bowed his head as if he could hide it. He pushed his hair back behind his ear, but couldn’t lift his face. “I don’t have it all. There are some things I still don’t have.”

“Yeah?” Gojyo stroked Hakkai’s hair back and traced down his neck. “Well, Tuesday, when the shops are open again, we’ll see what we can do about fixin’ that.” He kissed Hakkai on the forehead, and Lirin and Yaone both cooed.

“Jeez,” Kougaiji chuckled to Jien. “I’ve never seen your brother act like this.”

Jien laughed under his breath, and answered in a voice that was probably only meant for Kougaiji. “Nah. Hakkai just brings out the best in him. Kinda like you and Yaone do for me.” He kissed Kougaiji on the forehead, and Kougaiji rubbed his nose to Jien’s. Lirin, however, took this as her cue to make a noise of disgust.

“Seriously, quit being icky. I’m putting on Frosty the Snowman. Thanks for the gifts!” She grabbed her things up and went searching for the remote. Jien snorted, but turned to Hakkai.

“It’s not a problem if we hang around for just a little longer, is it?”

“Not at all. Why don’t I bring out some Christmas cookies and fresh cocoa?”

“I’ll help,” Gojyo volunteered, and got up alongside Hakkai. Hakkai felt Gojyo brush his fingers against his palm as they returned to continue the festivities together.

Hakkai could almost forget the nearly silent holidays he’d had in the lonely years right before Kanan had passed, or even the Christmases that weren’t Christmases at all. This day felt so much more full and special than any other holiday he could remember.

Especially because, as the sight of Gojyo dressed in his new sweater and filling the kettle reminded him, he would be able to carry on this same cheer a little longer.

* * *

Gojyo had said he would close his shop early that Tuesday to take Hakkai to pick his present out, and Hakkai arrived just after two to find him. Lirin beamed from the desk and greeted him as he walked past.

“Howdy, Handsome Bakery Man!”

“It’s nice to see you, Peppy College Girl.” Hakkai beamed. “I assume Gojyo and Goku are finishing for the day?”

“Yeah, Gojyo’s gonna finish this last car and close up, and then once the cars get picked up today, I can go home!” Lirin gleefully kicked back in the stool, putting her feet on the table and picking up a pop idol magazine. “I’m on break, and I wanna get back to vacationing!”

Hakkai laughed mildly, choosing not to point out that she seemed relaxed enough already. “I understand the sentiment. Would it be a problem if I went into the workshop to say hello?”

“Prol'ly not, just do what Gojyo tells me.” Lirin wagged a finger without looking up from her tabloid. “Don’t touch nothin’, and watch your step!”

“I’ll bear that in mind.” With that, Hakkai passed through the narrow hallway from the front office into the garage.

There was only one car left in the garage, an older-looking pickup truck. Goku was on a stepladder putting tools up, but Hakkai couldn’t spot Gojyo. He hailed Goku with a wave. “Good afternoon, Goku! Did you have a nice Christmas?”

“Oh! Hey, Hakkai! Yeah, for sure!” Goku grinned and hopped down. “But you’re not here for me, are ya?”

“I’m very interested in how your holiday was.” Hakkai stopped in place once he got past the empty bay. “But you’re right in that I’m here for Gojyo.”

“You don’t gotta look far!” Gojyo’s voice echoed from somewhere, and a second later, Gojyo’s head popped out from under the nose of the pickup truck, smudged with black grease and bits of dry mud. He grinned up at him, then scooted the rest of the way out on his slider board and rolled to a stand, then whistled to Goku. “Goku, it’s the fuel line. Looks like the owner was off-roading and janked it up good. Could'ja give 'im a call an’ ask if we have his permission to order the part and do the fix? Give 'im a time estimate of two days to get the part in and actually perform the labor. If he says yes, go ahead and place the order.”

“Slavedriver.” Goku winked. “But you’re the boss.”

“Attaboy.” Gojyo then pivoted around to Hakkai. “I’d kiss ya hello, babe, but even I know I’m filthy.”

“You will never be so filthy that I would not wish to say 'hello.'” Hakkai almost relished digging out his kerchief and cleaning Gojyo’s cheek, and Gojyo sheepishly held still, beaming with pleased embarrassment, as Hakkai scrubbed his skin to a reddened version of his naturally ruddy complexion and planted a kiss there. “Were you finished?”

“Just, yeah. Give me five to get out of the jumpsuit.” Gojyo wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and kissed Hakkai’s temple right at the hairline. “You don’t mind waitin’ just a little longer, right?”

“For you, never.”

Goku rolled his eyes but grinned to himself at their antics. “Guys, I’m gonna have to mop it up if you get any more mushy. Gojyo, go on an’ change or the place is gonna close, I’ll finish putting it up in here.”

Gojyo chuckled and detached himself from Hakkai, throwing a hand up in a wave. “Fine, fine, I’ll save you the work. Hakkai, go 'head and wait in the lobby.”

Hakkai was about to, when he caught something Gojyo had said. As Gojyo left towards the office, Hakkai tiptoed conspiratorially closer to Goku. “Do you know what the big surprise is?”

“Oh, me?” Goku tried and failed to look innocent. “Um, no, no idea.” He grinned, showing all of his teeth, but Hakkai chuckled and leaned in.

“Not even an inkling? You couldn’t give me a hint?”

“Um.” Goku stared like a rabbit caught in the headlights, forcing a grin. “I… could? But Gojyo might get mad at me? Plus you’re gonna be there soon anyway.” He made tiny shooing motions with his hands. “Just go wait for Gojyo, he won’t be long!”

Hakkai sighed, hoping he might make Goku feel guilty enough to spill the beans, but Goku just bit his lip and tensed up. Gojyo had likely sworn him to secrecy. Hakkai had been puzzling over what was so special that Gojyo would want to take him to select it himself, but he kept finding his mind drifting back to jewelry.

Preposterous. Impossible. Gojyo wouldn’t. Not yet.

When Gojyo emerged from the office, dressed in street clothes and with just enough smudge left on his face that Hakkai could halt him to dab it off, he led Hakkai to his car. “Okay, so I know this is sort of a surprise, so since I know where we’re going, I’m gonna drive.” He fidgeted before unlocking the door. “Uh, if you, uh, don’t want it to be a big surprise, maybe I could just take you somewhere you want to go and getcha whatever you want?”

“Perhaps.” Hakkai set his hands on his hips. “And perhaps I’d like to see what you have in mind.” He fished a hand into Gojyo’s back pocket, squeezing his rear appreciatively. “Won’t you show me?” Gojyo grinned at the attentions, until Hakkai withdrew his hand and handed Gojyo his keys. “I’ll close my eyes, if you promise to drive smoothly.”

Gojyo gamely held the door for Hakkai, and Hakkai closed his eyes tight once he’d put his seat belt on. Gojyo was a surprisingly careful driver, with the exception of a few hard stops and muffled swears. Despite the little bumps in the road, Hakkai felt Gojyo put the car into park, and he patted his hand. “Okay, this is the place.” Hakkai opened his eyes and saw the sign for…

“An animal shelter?” Hakkai turned to see Gojyo beaming.

“You, uh, kept mentioning you were thinking of getting a cat. I hate thinkin’ of you all alone, 'cause, I, uh, I want you to be happy.” Gojyo bowed his head and fidgeted. “I… I’d be happy to be with you all the time, but… I…” He trailed off, and Hakkai waited on bated breath, stunned as he tried to put together what Gojyo had been thinking. What Gojyo was about to say, what he wasn’t saying.

It wasn’t a wedding ring, nor a request for one, but they’d hardly been seeing each other three months. Even so, that list Hakkai had been keeping of signs that Gojyo wanted to stay forever suddenly felt incredibly long, but then he only remembered the last time he’d let someone in that close: the dark-haired smirking man who’d dominated his life like a lunar eclipse turned daylight to midnight. Worse, he thought of gentle Kanan, swallowed by a curse, or by the same shadow. He knew that shadow still lingered.

How could he invite Gojyo to stay with him when he still found himself in that shadow sometimes?

“You do listen to me, and very well, at that.” Hakkai smiled bashfully, but couldn’t look Gojyo in the eye. “I was considering a cat. And… I do get lonely.”

Gojyo looked weirdly happy at that, as if he’d actually laid his neck on the line for this and Hakkai accepting it was a huge relief. “Yeah! I, uh, I thought so. See, cats are smart, and independent, like you. I thought maybe if I helped you pick him out, he’d sorta be ours, even if I only help take care of him when I come to visit and stuff, and I’ll help ya buy him food and a litterbox and toys and pay the adoption fee, and… I, uh, I just wasn’t sure how serious you were about it.” He hung his head again, smiling even with his eyes on his knees. “I’m glad you like the idea.” He abruptly jumped out of the car, and Hakkai followed.

“Oh, Gojyo,” he sighed to himself from a few steps behind him. “I really don’t deserve you.”

He hoped Gojyo hadn’t heard him.

The shelter associate had clearly anticipated them, and happily led them to the cat room. Gojyo had figured they’d been waiting for him; he’d called them six times asking about how to best get Hakkai a feline friend. Hakkai had gotten nervous as they got out of the car, but the moment the door opened to a room stacked ceiling-high with cages, his entire expression transformed. His eyes softened, his cheeks went pink, and he leaned into the nearest cage with light dancing across his expression.

“Oh, aren’t you precious?” Hakkai beamed, as a tiny white kitten padded its way to the front of the kennel and mewed piteously. Hakkai gasped and gently praised it with nonsense words, and Gojyo cupped a hand over his mouth. Whatever had been worrying Hakkai ten seconds ago had melted away in the face of pure, unadulterated cute. Gojyo and the shelter employee watched Hakkai for a few seconds, trading knowing glances as he teased the kitten with his fingertips. As Hakkai looked into the next cage, only to be greeted by another kitten, Gojyo tapped the shelter worker on the shoulder.

“While he’s looking, I’m gonna make a tag with his phone number on it.” He’d read somewhere not to put your pet’s name on the tag, and if Hakkai wanted that, he’d do that for him later. “I’ll be back.”

The shelter had a few basic odds and ends in the lobby, the brand of food the shelter fed the cats, a few toys and accessories, and a tag machine, and Gojyo thanked his stars for that. He’d forgotten to get Hakkai a card, and he would have felt really stupid buying one the day after Christmas. He also wasn’t sure what he would write inside, other than something that would be embarrassing. He knew what he really wanted to give Hakkai was his own sorry ass, all wrapped up with a bow and a plea to keep him forever. However, he knew that wasn’t fair to Hakkai, to demand that of him. If Hakkai wanted him, he could have him, but then, why would someone want him that badly? Maybe someday, he’d be less of a mess and get up the nerve to tell Hakkai how he felt, but until then, he’d try and show him he was worth that.

He had something good here. He would hold on tight until he deserved it.

When Gojyo returned to the cat room, he saw Hakkai and the shelter worker opening one of the cages. He quickly got back in, shoving the tag away into his jacket pocket and shutting the door tight behind him. Hakkai eagerly waited, whispering little coaxes and coos to lure the kitty out, as Gojyo stayed a step back so as not to overwhelm the poor thing. “So, who are we gonna meet? The white baby kitten? The little spotty one?” He tried to peek, but couldn’t make it out past the shelter worker’s shoulders. Hakkai, however, shook his head.

“Kittens are precious, but everyone wants a kitten. I also don’t think I have time to litter train a little one. I wanted an adult cat, and this young man is four years old, in his prime, and has the sweetest face.”

There was a hiss from inside the kennel, and the shelter worker jumped, then covered her mouth to stifle a nervous laugh. “Are you sure you want to meet this fella, sir? He’s, uh, a little picky about who he likes. In fact, he doesn’t seem to like most anybody.”

Gojyo felt the color drain from his face but plastered a smile on as Hakkai clicked his tongue. “He was purring and rubbing against my hand through the bars just a moment ago. May I?” The shelter worker stepped back, and Hakkai held his palm in the open doorway and made soft, whispering noises. Gojyo saw a nose first, pink and twitching, then a paw batting at Hakkai’s fingers. The cat that crept out of the kennel was…

Well…

“Huh.” Gojyo clamped down on his reaction, because somehow, he knew anything he wanted to say would probably be the wrong thing. “Uh, he’s got an interesting face.”

… there was no way around it, this was the ugliest cat Gojyo had ever laid eyes on. He had white hair that was short and scraggly against most of his skin, and Gojyo could see pink skin through his thin coat. He had what Gojyo could only describe as a mane, a strip of longer fur down its spine and tail. His face was pinched and narrow, his whiskers short and sharp-looking, his ears wide like satellite dishes but very pointy at the tips, and he had beady, deep-set black eyes that, when they fixed on Gojyo, narrowed into a fierce expression. He hissed at Gojyo, and Gojyo jumped back as if he’d breathed fire at him.

Hakkai was delighted as the hideous cat jumped into his arms, and Hakkai gleefully rubbed his chin against the fuzz on the cat’s head. The ugly little thing _purred_ and nuzzled Hakkai. “Oh, who’s a pretty, fascinating kitter-cat, yes he is!”

Gojyo chastised himself, remembering that for all of his charms, Hakkai could be just a little weird. That was just fine. Gojyo happened to like weird. If weird meant he was going to have to share Hakkai with this mean, ugly cat, that would be okay. From the way Hakkai was stroking that one stripe of fur and continuing to coo at him, it seemed like that would be his fate. “Hey, he really likes you.”

“He does, yes, he does,” Hakkai agreed happily, and kissed the cat’s forehead. The cat chittered, making strange half-meows and half-yowls as if he could talk back. The shelter worker was dumbfounded.

“We’re, uh, not so sure what he is. He seems to be a Rex crossed with a long-hair domestic, and we found him feral. We think someone threw him out, and he’s not particularly friendly to anyone. Except, uh, you.” She scratched her head. “I’ll be darned, though, you sure have the magic touch.”

“Wherever he came from, whatever he is, he’s lovely.” Hakkai opened his jacket and closed the cat into it. “Gojyo, this is the one.”

Gojyo chuckled and extended his fingers. “Yeah?” The cat turned from where he was cuddled to Hakkai’s chest, sniffed Gojyo’s hand, and spat at him again, baring lots of sharp little teeth, and Gojyo yanked his hand back. “Well, uh, seems like destiny. I’ll go get him a collar and carrier and all, like I promised, and we’ll be on our way. You got a name for him yet?”

Hakkai hummed and considered the cat, looking down into his beady little eyes. The cat blinked slowly, and Hakkai blinked back just as slowly, then kissed him on the nose. “I think I’ll just call him Ryuu. It means 'dragon,’ which I think suits him.”

Gojyo laughed. “Fine by me.”

Ryuu would not get into the carrier, but he also would not get out of Hakkai’s jacket. Gojyo carried the bags of cat toys, food, litter and box and loaded them into his car as Hakkai continued to babytalk his new pet. However, once they settled in, Hakkai planted his hand on Ryuu’s head, between his broad ears, and faced Gojyo. “Thank you, Gojyo. I think he really will help keep me company.” He gave Ryuu a few more strokes down his back, and Ryuu purred and cuddled closer to Hakkai. Gojyo just smiled.

“I’m just happy to see you happy.”

“Mm.” Hakkai contemplatively sealed his lips for a moment, then glanced over to Gojyo. “But you are much better company, and I think perhaps you and he should get to know each other. Would you like to perhaps make having dinner with me a regular arrangement?”

Gojyo’s heart fluttered in his ribcage like a bird in a snare. He almost wanted to crush it under his hand, or suppress it like he did with all of his hopes, even as blood rushed to his face and he could only bashfully reply, “Oh, well, ain’t you a sweet talker.”

“I mean it. I want nothing more than to see more of you. As delightful as Ryuu is, you make for much more interesting conversation.” Hakkai cast an eye over at him, lightness flowing out of his expression. Gojyo faintly realized that this was Hakkai making his open invitation a little broader. Maybe Hakkai was trying to see if he could be domesticated, tamed, and kept. He wanted to be kept, too.

“Well, babe, you want me, you got me.” Gojyo leaned over and kissed Hakkai on the cheek. Ryuu hissed a little from inside of Hakkai’s coat, but Hakkai tutted him and kissed Gojyo in return.

Hakkai, for his part, couldn’t think of anything nicer than what he had to look forward to. Ryuu winding around his ankles as he put dinner together, the sound of Gojyo’s boots on his mat and his voice ringing through the entryway, chased by the scent of oil and his cigarettes, and to be greeted by those large, rough hands on his waist and a warm kiss, and many, many more nights together. Maybe it would make up for all the bleak loneliness he’d lived. Gojyo was warm and bright enough, maybe even enough to brush that dark, cold shadow away.

Every day could be like Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lovely Thoolu did a drawing of Ryuu sitting in Hakkai's coat (along with Hakuryuu in Hakkai's coat because that is just a precious thing to think of). It can be viewed here: http://thooluu.tumblr.com/post/155097208146/ezra-blue-spoilers-for-chapter-23-under-the-cut 
> 
> Thanks Thoo! <3


	24. Ringing in the New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goku goes into the New Year by admitting some difficult truths to Sanzo, and as Sanzo copes, Goku is brought deeper into the Sanzo family’s reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness in posting this! Please note that this chapter was originally going to be two, but I decided that it would be best to merge them.

**24: Ringing In The New**

Christmas brunch could not have possibly gone worse.

Toudai had been an asshole to Gojyo. Sanzo normally wouldn’t object (shit, he was usually an asshole to Gojyo) but Toudai had done it on a spectacularly unjustified level. From the tight expression Hakkai had worn when he’d abandoned the table to chase Gojyo down and comfort him, Toudai was lucky to be walking away with all of his teeth, with only Hakkai’s restraint and need to ensure Gojyo wasn’t breaking down shielding him. Goku had known the problem all along and had chosen not to say anything, caught between his loyalty to his boss and Sanzo.

Sanzo was pissed. He’d known Goku could be kind of an idiot, but this was a bridge too far. He also knew Goku was just as upset at himself as anything, so he knew scolding him wouldn’t do anything. Goku was trying to put a brave face on, forcing a smile for Toudai and Koumyou as they waited for a taxi (their idea, not his, stubborn old goats), as Sanzo waited in the driver’s seat, drumming his fingernails on the wheel and mulling it over in his head. When Goku sat down, though, he subdued and pulled his shoulders in. “Thanks for the ride home, Sanzo.”

“Hmph.” Sanzo put the car into gear and drove. He never said he was taking Goku home yet. It was far too rare for him and Goku to actually be alone, but now they were isolated. Koumyou had said that he found many people opened up behind closed doors, but that wasn’t just limited to a therapist’s office and sofa (the thought of which only reminded Sanzo of a conversation he was going to have to have with Koumyou later because _what the hell, Dad, you’re retired!_ ), and people often felt safe in their cars. Sure, a two-ton piece of heavy machinery that killed more people every year than anything else, that felt _safe_. But at least he and Goku were alone, with no risk of interruption.

He started off driving towards Goku’s shitty apartment, but veered off down a different road before he reached the tracks. Goku raised an eyebrow and raised a hand. “Uh, Sanzo, I don’t live this way.”

“I know.” Sanzo knew where he was going. What he needed to know was where he and Goku were going.

He stopped in the parking lot of a dog park, threw the car into park, and took his seat belt off to twist around and face Goku. “This can’t happen again.”

Goku shrank, his shoulders rising over his ears. “I know. I’m sorry–”

“Quit apologizing. I know what actually went down wasn’t your fault, but hiding it from me – I don’t have time for that bullshit.” Sanzo crossed his arms as Goku continued to shrink down. “Hakkai might tolerate Gojyo prevaricating and vacillating and hiding shit, but I don’t.”

Goku sucked his lower lip in, chewed it, then slowly spat out: “You don’t get it.” He put his fists down and set his shoulders back, but glared at the console of the car rather than Sanzo. “I’ve never dealt with this stuff before, okay? I’ve never had parents, and I’ve never had to worry about the parents of a boyfriend or girlfriend or anything.”

“You think I know what I’m doing? Shit.” Sanzo rolled his eyes, then took Goku’s chin in his hand. “If you tell me, we can do it together.”

Goku blinked, bright eyes flashing with confusion. “You mean that?”

“I do.” Sanzo ran his hand up to Goku’s hair. “Unfamiliar territory is best walked with someone else.” Goku relaxed a little when Sanzo ruffled his hair. “As for taking sides, I’m on nobody’s side but my own. If you’re walking my way, then so be it.”

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll try not to hide stuff from you next time.” Goku pushed his head into Sanzo’s palm like a dog starved for attention, grinning like he was supposed to for the first time all day.

Exactly what Sanzo wanted. Crisis averted. Goku understood things left unsaid much more than Sanzo gave him credit for sometimes. He thought the conversation was over, but as he tried to withdraw, Goku grabbed his hand.

“Hey, Sanzo?” Goku twisted around in the passenger seat. His gaze went steely, and he set his jaw. He’d obviously made his mind up about something. “There’s something I gotta tell you.”

Sanzo frowned, but let Goku clasp his hand in both of his. “I’m listening.”

Goku nodded, then sucked in a breath, filling his lungs, then squeezed Sanzo’s hand. “I… I’m a guy, okay? You know that. I’m a guy, I act like a guy, I dress like a guy, most of my friends are guys, okay? But…” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I wasn’t always a guy.”

Sanzo felt that like a blow to the chest. “ _What._ ”

“I don’t usually say it like that. Um, it’s like this.” Goku released Sanzo’s hand and laced his fingers together. “Uhm, you know how when you’re born, the doctor looks between your legs and says, ‘this is a boy,’ 'this is a girl,’ they probably looked between your legs and said you were a boy, right? They looked at me and said I was a girl.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “So for a while, I had to wear dresses and hair bows, they called me a girl’s name, and they made me play with baby dolls and pink stuff because they thought I was a girl, but the thing was, in my head, I didn’t feel like a girl.” Sanzo could see Goku’s knees shaking. “I liked monster trucks and wrestling and I hated Barbie, and I hated wearing pigtails and dresses, and I told Mama, 'stop treating me like a girl,’ and then Mama took me to a special doctor in Sacramento and they put together that even though I had a girl’s body, I was a boy on the inside.”

“You’re telling me you’re not biologically male.” Sanzo couldn’t be hearing this right. Nothing about Goku seemed feminine in the least. “You said you were how old when you…?”

“Four.” Goku bit his lip. “Mama said it was just a glitch when God was putting me together. My head and heart and soul are all boy, but my body isn’t.” He fidgeted again. “But some of me is a boy! I’ve, um, been on shots since I was nine.”

Sanzo ran his eyes over Goku’s body. “Shots.”

“Testosterone.” Goku seemed to feel Sanzo staring at him, and subconsciously pulled his arms over himself. “I started it basically around when I hit puberty, so I started girl puberty a little, but it stopped short and I went through guy puberty. That’s why I got a low voice and my face is a guy’s, and I don’t have girly hips.” He extended a hand to touch Sanzo’s wrist. “But if you feel here?” Sanzo let Goku take his wrist and guide it to his shoulder. He pressed Sanzo’s palm in, and Sanzo felt something under Goku’s shirt. “That’s a binder. I kinda have…” Goku traced a little circle around his chest, and Sanzo filled in the blanks and nodded. Goku shuddered. “Yeah, I kinda hate 'em. They’re not big, 'cause like I said, I started testosterone early, and I’m saving for top surgery to get 'em off. Mama says that 'cause they’re small and I don’t wear my binding stuff too much, the surgery should be a lot easier, they can just do a keyhole instead of double-incision or – uh, guess you wouldn’t know about all that.”

Sanzo sucked air in through his nose and studied Goku again. Top surgery. That meant there was a bottom surgery. “You don’t have a dick.”

“Nope.” Goku hung his head. “And, uh, that’s a lot more complicated. At least with top surgery, they’re just taking something off. Bottom surgery means you’re putting somethin’ in that wasn’t there before.” He laughed, sharp and anxious, and ran his hand into his hair and gripped it against his scalp. “I mean, when a girl gets breast implants, that’s under the skin, so it’s easier to hide that! You can’t just, y'know, make something where there’s kinda nothing.” He released his hair, his shoulders hunching. “So, uh, there’s really good odds I’m never gonna have a dick. There’s stuff you can do down there to sorta make a fake, but there’s no real good way of making one that’s gonna match yours. Plus, it’s crazy expensive.” He scrunched his nose, and looked up at Sanzo. “So, I kinda came to peace with that. I pack most days, especially if I’m gonna wear tighter pants, and feeling something there is good enough for me. I might get a hysterectomy sooner rather than later, 'cause having a vagina’s not a problem but I know getting knocked up would really set my dysphoria off. If I’ve ever got enough money, I can consider my options.”

Sanzo frowned, as Goku tried to set his shoulders back again and lift his face. Goku was baring his soul, and yet he still found himself searching over Goku’s body. He wasn’t sure he’d ever met someone who’d transitioned before, and suddenly found himself intimately close. He gathered his thoughts, still trying to put the new information together with the Goku he knew. “Alright,” he murmured after a moment, but shook his head again. Goku sat back, sucking on his lower lip and puzzling.

“Um… did you have any questions?”

Sanzo let a beat of silence pass, as a few children ran through the twirling snow flurries past the front bumper towards the park, a barking retriever of some sort in tow, but Goku only looked once, barely distracted. “What’s your name?”

“Goku Son.”

Sanzo snorted. “What was it?”

Goku cringed. “Uh. That’s, uh, not an okay question. They call it a 'deadname’ for a reason. I kinda buried it when I cut my hair off – like, Mama dug a hole, and we tossed my hair and dresses and girl stuff in there and buried it. Mama changed my name and birth certificate. She kept a tiny bit of my old name, but I honestly prefer not thinking about who I was before then.” He hung his head. “It wasn’t me.”

“Oh.” Sanzo frowned, and withdrew from the line he’d crossed. “Sorry.”

Goku’s eyes widened with surprise. “Oh, wow, uh, it’s okay, really! You didn’t know, you don’t gotta apologize. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you – anyway.” He withdrew again, his hands clasping in his lap. “Anything else?”

Sanzo mulled it over. “You’re… considering top surgery.”

“Definitely want that. Mama’s got a special savings fund for it. I send whatever money I got left after the bills get paid, and she matches it.” Goku wrung his fingers. “I almost have two-thousand dollars in there now, so maybe once I’m working full time, I’ll get enough this year. At least the hysterectomy might actually be covered by my insurance, y'know?” He grinned sheepishly. “Mama told me I have a higher risk of ovarian cancer 'cause of the T, so getting all that scooped out could be considered preventative care.”

Sanzo shuddered at the thought of Goku talking about his body like it was just something to be cut and changed, but gathered his thoughts for another question. “And you still use testosterone.”

“Uh-huh. Every three weeks, Mama drives me down to Sacramento. I get a great big needle and my butt’s sore for a few days, but it’s a maintenance dose. I’ll likely be on some form of testosterone for the rest of my life, since some of the changes aren’t permanent.” He frowned to himself. “Hopefully the clinic I go to stays open for a good long time. Mama said it’s hard to find a good doctor who’ll help me and not treat me like crap 'cause I wasn’t born a guy.” Sanzo examined Goku’s face, then put a hand on his shoulder.

“I can ask if Koumyou knows of anyone closer who does hormone and reassignment therapy. Sacramento’s three hours away, that’s one hell of a drive for a needle.”

“Oh, the drive’s not a problem, Mama and me sing road songs the whole way, and plus we’ll usually do a nice lunch together and go shopping while we’re…” Goku trailed off, as if just realizing what Sanzo had said. “Look, I’m tryin’ not to look a gift horse in the mouth here, but now the shock’s worn off, you seem really weirdly okay with this.”

Sanzo’s brow knit up, but he put his other hand over Goku’s and squeezed. “Yeah. I didn’t ask your dick out. I didn’t give your flat chest and manly pectoral muscles my number. I wanted to see you. I’m just seeing you for who you are now.” He frowned. “It’s more complicated than I expected, but it’s still just you. Thank you for trusting me.”

Goku’s nearly stoic explanation broke, and his voice cracked: “You mean you’re not breaking up with me?!”

“No. Idiot, did I say I was?”

Goku groaned and sagged, turning so he could slump in the passenger seat. “Oh my gosh, I thought for sure – but you’re not!”

“No,” Sanzo repeated, rolling his eyes.

“But you’re gay! Hakkai said you were only into dudes!”

“You started this whole rant off with the very clear statement that you were a _dude_.” Sanzo folded his arms. “Look at me.” Goku barely lifted his chin, and Sanzo stared him down. “Why did you wait this long?”

Goku hummed and lowered his face again. “Well, at first it didn’t matter, 'cause we just met, why the heck would you care? And then, well, you hadn’t seen my body or even asked me to take my shirt off, and we weren’t having sex or nothing, so it didn’t matter. Then I just had to figure out when to break it to ya that maybe I wasn’t everything you thought I was.”

“Idiot. It’s exactly like you said. You are not just your parts.” Sanzo threaded his fingers into Goku’s hair again. Goku leaned into his touch, and Sanzo felt something like sunlight melting ice down his face. “You’re a companion, not a sex toy. This is fine. We’ll figure it out together.”

“Thank you,” Goku whispered, and put his face in Sanzo’s shoulder, leaning over the center console to sink against Sanzo. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Sanzo could feel that Goku had something thicker under his clothes now that he was feeling for it, but it didn’t change that it felt very nice to hold Goku against him. It was exactly like sunshine melting snow.

Sanzo let Goku hug him until the snow flurries had covered the windshield, at which point he turned the wipers on, which caught Goku’s attention. “Oh, jeez, it’s coming down now.”

“There are still people in the park, so it can’t be that bad.” Sanzo turned the front defroster on. “But I’ll get you home before the roads get icy.”

“Thank you.” Goku sat back and put his seat belt back on, though Sanzo caught him still quivering a little out of the corner of his eye. Sanzo knew that this had changed next to nothing between them, but he faintly realized that maybe it should.

“Do you want me to take you to Sacramento?” He put the car in gear just as Goku whipped around again, gaping. “For your shot.”

“S-Sanzo – I – uh, I have an hour of therapy when I go down there, too. You’d be bored.”

“I can amuse myself for an hour. If you’d rather keep this a special thing with you and 'Mama,’ that’s fine, but if you ever want to take me, you need only ask.” He paused. “Does 'Mama’ have a name?”

“You could just call her Mother Bosatsu, I guess.” Goku sniffed, his lower lip wiggling through a big, wobbly smile. “And… yeah. Maybe we can do a Sacramento day trip together some time.” He smiled and snaked an arm over to Sanzo’s shoulder, tugging him sideways in his seat. Sanzo grunted his annoyance, but let Goku have it. Goku had given him plenty today, he should at least make a token effort to meet him in the middle.

* * *

“Do you have big New Year’s plans?” Koumyou could make loaded questions sound dreadfully innocent, and Sanzo peered out of his office to glare at him. He was filling out his accreditation forms at his desk using one of the pens decorated with a peacock feather and not quite looking at Sanzo, his smiling eyes down on his desk. Sanzo could already tell he was fishing. One of the things that made Koumyou a good therapist was that he could get the information he really wanted by asking questions around it in a careful waltz until he was taking the last step and had come in for the kill. Sanzo had gotten used to listening for it.

“Why do you want to know? You trying to make plans?”

“Ah, no, your father and I will do what we usually do.” Koumyou giggled. “Dinner, then stay in and watch a benefit concert on television. I think Marin Alsopp will be conducting the SFSO this year. I suppose I’d like to know if you’d like us to include you in our reservations, or if you were going to do something else this year.”

It sounded so reasonable. Koumyou was good at sounding reasonable. Sanzo’s suspicion couldn’t so easily be assuaged. “Hm. Maybe.”

“Let’s see.” Koumyou paused and brushed the feather of the pen across his lower lip. “Hakkai told me he and Gojyo were going to a wine tasting. Did he invite you to join them?”

“Goku can’t drink.” Sanzo bit his own tongue the second the words came out. Koumyou merely hummed, but Sanzo knew Koumyou needed more. “I haven’t asked him about his plans yet.”

“Oh, really? Perhaps if you were going to make plans, it would be prudent to make them.” Koumyou returned to filling out his paperwork and hummed vacantly. Sanzo grimaced and scooted back into his office.

Making plans meant plans could be broken, but Goku had proven his worth every time Sanzo had taken the risk. He picked his phone up and dialed Goku’s number without hesitating.

Goku picked up promptly. “Just a sec, greasy fingers!” Sanzo rolled his eyes, but he heard a frantic scuffle on the other side as Goku hurried to find some way to clean his hands (and likely his face). Then, Goku returned: “Sorry about that. What’s up?”

Sanzo sniffed. “Do you have New Year’s Eve plans?”

“Me an’ some friends were gonna go to a movie.” Goku paused. “But, um, that’s not totally set in stone, y'know? Did you want to make some plans?”

Sanzo felt a little relief at Goku understanding without him even trying to explain. “I’m not picky. Dinner?”

“Sure!”

“I’ll make reservations.”

Goku, on the other end, gasped. “So, it’ll be like a dinner date? Just you and me?” He heard Goku just off the receiver, “I’ve never been on an actual dinner date!” Then, he came back on. “N'then, maybe we could find somewhere nice to listen to music? I know you like that.”

Sanzo did. “I can do some looking and see if there are any places still accepting reservations with live entertainment.”

“Sure! Anything’s fine, I can find something to eat on any menu. Usually I kinda wanna eat half of the menu.” Goku chuckled. “Just tell me where and what time, yeah? I’ll be there, bells on!”

“I’ll text you.” He hung up, but he could faintly hear Goku celebrating off speaker as he did. He had a funny feeling Goku hadn’t been sure whether or not Sanzo would ask him out on a date again. He didn’t tell Sanzo this, of course, because Sanzo would likely give him a good kick in the ass and tell him, 'I already told you once!’ He couldn’t lie and say that even after having him over for Christmas dinner that he’d completely come to terms with the knowledge that Goku was trans. He still, embarrassingly, found himself looking for any tells that Goku wasn’t male. He’d found none thus far.

At the same time, Sanzo got the feeling Goku was waiting for Sanzo to decide he wasn’t worth the trouble. Maybe he should take this opportunity to prove it.

He did so, with one last addendum by text message: “Bring an overnight bag with a change of clothes.”

* * *

Sanzo had no idea where Goku put all the free bread they’d put on the table at the restaurant. All he knew was that the waiters had replaced the basket at least three times and he’d only taken one roll for himself. How did someone so small pack away that much bread, a full plate of pesto, ask about the gnocchi Sanzo hadn’t eaten (to the point of having his hand slapped away when Goku jokingly reached for it), and still want dessert?

On the bright side, whereas Goku was loud and enthusiastic, encouraging conversation, asking Sanzo to tell him how good his meal was and expressing how awesome the food was, when the band came out, a jazz quartet, Goku quieted down, speaking only in stage whispers to the waiter to ask for refills and the dessert menu, so Sanzo could enjoy the music. Goku did talk between songs:

“What was that one called? Do you know this song? Who wrote it?”

Sanzo found he usually knew at least one answer, and had no good reason not to tell Goku as much as he could. Goku admitted, “I listen to music, but only, like on the radio. Nataku puts orchestra stuff on while he’s studying, but he doesn’t actually know anything about it and he puts his headphones on sometimes, so I don’t know much about it. The stuff you listen to is pretty neat, though! How’d you get so into jazz and stuff?”

“College,” Sanzo answered steadily, as Goku fidgeted with his soda glass, having long since scraped every last trace of chocolate mousse from his dessert plate. “I listened to the college radio and started to hear some songs I liked, so I researched the musicians independently. Soon, I just learned to listen for the songs that resonated with me. I listen to everything.”

“Cool! Do you do, like, deep cuts and stuff?”

“I’ll listen to a full album, if that’s what you mean. If I really like something that’s not popular, then yes, I make an effort to listen to it when I feel like it.”

Goku glowed appreciatively. “You’re all deep and considerate and stuff. It’s so cool and cute.”

Sanzo felt his cheeks glow in return. “I just am.”

“Yeah, it’s great.” Goku beamed, and the room only got warmer.

Sanzo suggested they leave by eleven, hoping to avoid any drivers who’d celebrated a little too hard, and Goku made no argument. He was perfectly happy to exhort all the fun they’d had up until that point as if Sanzo hadn’t been there, enjoying it too. Sanzo couldn’t admonish him as he chattered the entire car ride back to his parents’ home. When they arrived, the shop was dark and locked, but there was a light on in an upstairs room. Goku hiked his backpack up his shoulders as Sanzo unlocked the door, and Sanzo guided Goku through the dark shop and to the stairwell. The front room on the second floor opened into a lounge where Toudai and Koumyou were sharing a worn-looking leather sofa and watching television. Koumyou hailed them with a wave as they walked past the door.

“Boys, welcome back. Would you care to join us? Madame Alsopp is about to take the podium.”

Sanzo grunted. “Not enough room on the sofa for four. We’ll watch in my room.”

Toudai tipped his focus from the television for a moment to raise an eyebrow. Goku, however, gaped at Sanzo. “Wow, you got your own TV?”

“I insisted after sixteen years of passive-aggressive squabbles over whether we would watch primetime dramas or the cooking channel.” Sanzo continued to lead Goku up the stairs. “Besides, I preferred Jeopardy.”

“Lucky! We always had to draw straws at the foster house! Luckily, most everyone wanted to watch cartoons…” Goku tromped up after him to the third floor. Both of them missed the quick, nonverbal exchange between Toudai and Koumyou, Toudai gesturing furiously in their wake and Koumyou stifling a giggle.

Sanzo’s bedroom was pretty sparsely appointed. He had a double bed, a chest of drawers that looked like unfinished wood, a bookshelf, and a television stand with, of course, a TV. Sanzo pushed the pillows against the wall like a makeshift daybed and gestured. “Get comfy.”

“Thanks!” Goku took his shoes off and put them by the door, dropped his backpack next to Sanzo’s chest, and hopped onto the bed, shoulders against the wall, spread out so he could face the TV. Sanzo sat closer to the edge of the bed, but he yawned before he’d even settled in. Goku nudged Sanzo’s hip with his toe. “Are you sleepy?”

Sanzo cast a glare in Goku’s direction. “No.” As if to betray him, he yawned again, but cleared the roughness from his voice to add, “I’m used to early mornings, not late nights.”

“What time are you usually asleep?” Goku kicked his feet around. Sanzo muttered something, and Goku nudged his hip again. “Louder?”

“Nine.” Sanzo rolled his eyes. “And up by five. Forgive me for not being a spry college student pulling all-nighters.”

Goku snickered. “Man, if words could actually hurt a guy! Watch the sarcasm there, jeez. And it’s okay! If you wanna get into your PJs and get actually comfy, it’s okay. I’ll put mine on, too!” Goku jumped back off the bed and went for his backpack, but paused just as he went for the zipper. “That’s cool, right?”

Goku was holding his gaze, and it took Sanzo a moment for his brain to catch up with Goku’s unspoken question. Then he remembered Goku was kind of an idiot. “Yeah. It’s a sleepover. If you wanna change in the bathroom, it’s across the hall. If you want a glass of water or a snack, you know where the kitchen is. Just don’t go up the stairs, that’s Toudai and Koumyou’s suite.” He waved Goku off, but Goku looked grateful. For all of Goku’s stupidities, it was nice that he wasn’t presuming anything.

Sanzo shucked his overshirt and pants and flopped down on his bed again. Might as well get used to being comfortable around someone else now.

When Goku returned, it was in a tight-looking white tank top and boxer shorts with a monkey printed on it. Sanzo knew he was staring, but he hoped he was more subtle than Goku. Goku stopped cold for a moment, gaping, then shook it off and hopped back on the bed, leaving a little distance between the pair of them. Sanzo sat up and scooted so they could sit close, and Goku raised his eyebrows, but took the opportunity to wrap an arm around Sanzo’s waist.

On TV, the conductor stepped to the podium and raised her baton, the orchestra members lifted their instruments and played a single note in unison, and Sanzo relaxed into Goku’s shoulder. He was surprisingly solid for someone so small, and who clearly still had his share of cracks under the surface, and as Sanzo closed his eyes, Goku started to smooth his palm in little circles on his back. “Hey, if you’re sleepy, it’s okay. I’ll tuck you in if you doze off.”

Sanzo was already lolling against him. Goku rested the side of his head against Sanzo’s and pulled him closer by the waist. He wasn’t sure how many liberties he could take with Sanzo, if he was allowed to stroke his hair or take his shirt the rest of the way off, but he let Sanzo doze against him as the music started to play.

When midnight came, Goku was still contentedly watching the concert, and Sanzo was fast asleep against him. “Hey, Sanzo?” Goku nudged him as the little countdown in the corner of the screen neared zero. “It’s midnight. Did you want me to be your first kiss of the New Year?” Sanzo lifted his head a little, opening an eye halfway, then sat up and slid his arm up Goku’s back.

“Don’t ask me stupid questions.” He captured Goku around the shoulder and tugged him close, nose to nose, then hesitated. Goku, too, could see the countdown on the screen, and whispered it:

“Nine, eight, seven, six…” Sanzo’s hand trembled on his shoulder, and Goku put his lip against Sanzo’s chin and finished: “Five-four-three-two–!”

Sanzo closed the distance and kissed him, and Goku closed his arms around him. Sanzo’s kiss was lazy and deep, and Goku forgot about time.

Sanzo fell asleep with Goku still tasting his mouth, and Goku eased him down onto the bed the rest of the way, then cuddled up to his side. He managed to turn the lamp off without moving, but left the television on, and music washed over them as they fell into solace without a sound.

* * *

Goku woke at four in the morning with his stomach growling. He could practically feel his stomach shaking the bed as it growled and complained at him, and he grimaced and sat up. “I knew I should have grabbed some more breadsticks for a midnight snack.” He untangled his legs from Sanzo’s and stretched as he rose. Something felt off; his chest was a little sore, but he couldn’t be sure why. “Probably just 'cause it’s a different bed.” He glanced back at Sanzo where he still slept, breathing softly into his pillow. Sanzo’s bed was really comfy; the top was as squishy as a marshmallow, the blankets thick and soft, and the whole thing smelled a little like Sanzo’s soap and cigarettes. He kind of never wanted to get out.

Goku found the pantry easily and found a box of crackers. Hopefully, Toudai and Koumyou wouldn’t notice a few missing. Or a sleeve. He found himself stretching his arms over his head again as he ate a few, but it was only as he itched at his chest that he realized the problem.

“Crap, fell asleep in my binder like an idiot!” He put the crackers down on the counter and quickly started yanking the Velcro loose on the sides. He breathed just a little easier with the compression off, but just as he went to take the tank off, he heard a gasp from the door and looked up to see a shadow blocking the dim light from the hall.

Toudai in a dressing robe. Gawking at him.

Goku covered his chest with his arm, trying not to panic. “M-Mister Toudai!” He grabbed the crackers off the counter. “Sorry, I was just gettin’ a snack – I’ll clean up the mess, I’m sorry!” Toudai’s mouth was still agape, his shoulders slumped, and Goku waved his free hand. “I, uh, I can explain–”

“Wait.” Toudai compressed his forehead in his hand, his thumb and pinky pressed to his temples at his hairline. “Calm down. You don’t owe me an explanation. Here.” He slid his robe off and held it out. “Take that thing off, you can wear this. I may not know much, but I know you shouldn’t sleep in it.”

Goku felt his face flush, but as he took the robe, Toudai turned on his heel. “Meet me in the den upstairs. I wish to have a very serious conversation with you.” He strode away, brooking no argument, and Goku cringed and carefully peeled his binder the rest of the way off.

Crap, crap, crap.

Toudai’s robe was three sizes too big for Goku, still a little warm off of his chest and carrying the faint scent of chamomile. Toudai had worn pajamas underneath, at least, and Goku was a little relieved he wouldn’t have to have this 'very serious conversation’ with Toudai shirtless. Toudai had settled on one end of the sofa, and had pulled a leather tuffet close. He patted the smaller cushion as Goku entered the room. “Sit, my boy.” Goku obediently sat near him, pulling the robe around so he wouldn’t crush the velvet, and Toudai slapped a hand on his back. “This… whatever this is, changes nothing. If Kouryuu likes you as you are, that is all that’s important to us.”

“Mr. Toudai, I’m sorry – I would'a told you, but–”

“It’s not important to me. Your gender changes nothing, and as far as I care, it hasn’t changed.” He actually smirked. “At least three of the young fellows I coached needed me to help them pack their shorts so they looked right for competitions. That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.” Toudai squeezed his shoulder. “Where are you getting your hormones?”

That wasn’t what Goku was expecting. He quickly searched Toudai’s face for the deeper meaning, but found only stone cold demand. “Uh, I go to a doctor in Sacramento every three weeks for my T shot.”

“Okay.” Toudai sagged, clearly relieved. “Thank you. That’s reassuring. I…” Toudai heaved a sigh, collapsing like a hollow mountain. “I need you to promise me something.” Toudai slid his hand down Goku’s arm and took his hand. Goku sat up, listening intently, as Toudai squeezed his fingers. “I need you to promise me that no matter how hard things get, how impatient you are to transition, anything, you do not chase under-the-table testosterone, you do not take more than your doctor orders you, and for Heaven’s sake, no matter what you do, never, never–” He clamped Goku’s hand tight. “NEVER share a needle.”

Toudai’s grip hurt, but his hand was shaking. Goku squeezed his hand back. “I promise.”

Toudai leaned in towards Goku, still clenching his hand. “You don’t understand, boy. I may not be here next year to remind you of this. Hell, your relationship with Kouryuu is still hardly in its infancy, you may not be around, either. But know that Koumyou will help you, if it comes to that, just, please, never get so desperate that you make a foolish mistake like I did!”

Goku sucked in a breath. “Mister Toudai?”

Toudai’s hand was still shaking. “I have made countless mistakes, my boy. I suffered through twenty years of a loveless marriage to a woman who spent our every damned photo op comparing me to her senorita lover under her breath, and only able to see Koumyou in the night, sneaking around. I turned down so many opportunities for the sake of protecting my identity. Worst, I tried to keep up with my failing body through my latter years of athletics with – with…” Toudai inhaled and exhaled, clearly straining to scrape his soul clean. “You can’t imagine what it’s like. To sacrifice one’s happiness for years for the sake of success, only to see it drained by age… I thought I had no choice but to use HGH to keep up.”

Goku didn’t dare say a word. Not with Toudai still shaking in front of him. Toudai shook his head. “It’s horrible, isn’t it? My pride and stubbornness drove me to… to…” He grimaced. “My own gravestone.” He forced himself ramrod straight. “It was the early nineties. I knew of blood-borne diseases, but there were no massive public information campaigns, and it wasn’t taught when I was in school.  I was flying blind, and though I knew long-term steroid use would have negative consequences, I thought that just a little, just until I could retire, it wouldn’t… But it was illicitly acquired, and shared with…” Toudai swallowed hard. “Others. Other gay men. We knew of HIV, but it was not widely known all the ways it could be spread, and…”

Goku trembled. “Mr. Toudai? You mean you…”

Toudai’s hands tensed, and he withdrew from Goku. “I’ve been HIV positive since the year we adopted Kouryuu.” He hung his head, lacing his fingers until his knuckles went white. “I’ve been fortunate. We’re both professionals, well-to-do, and able to afford antiretroviral therapy and enzyme suppressants. It’s become harder since my diagnosis became publicly known and I was forced to retire, even more when my medicine caused me to develop diabetes, but we’ve managed. However, just a few weeks ago…” He shook his head. “My viral load has steadily increased over the last few years. As of three weeks ago, I’ve been diagnosed with AIDS.”

“Oh, oh man.” Goku shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, I had no–”

“Why are you apologizing, boy?” Toudai shook his head again, his forehead falling forward. “You didn’t force me to take that dirty needle. You had nothing to do with anything I’ve done. I… I know I seem a crotchety old grouch, but it frustrates me to watch you young people make the same mistakes I did. I want to share what I know, what I’ve learned, but I can’t force you to do what is correct. I can only ask that you hear me out.”

Goku launched himself off of his little stool and hugged Toudai around the shoulders. “Of course. And you’re right. I promise I’ll never share needles, I promise I’ll listen to my doctor.” He hugged Toudai tight, embracing him despite Toudai’s shock. “An’, please don’t be afraid to touch me. I’m smart, I know you’re not contagious to me.” He sat right beside Toudai, as Toudai collected himself. “It’s okay. I know me an’ Sanzo haven’t been together long, but he means a lot to me, and I hope I get to stay a for a long time.” He took Toudai’s hand again. “Even if you won’t be around forever, it’s okay. Thank you for trying to take care of me.”

Toudai studied Goku for a moment, then cracked a wry, self-deprecating smile. “You’re so easygoing, so much like Koumyou. I would kiss you if I didn’t know better.” He wrapped an arm around Goku and hugged him again.

When he opened his eyes from Toudai’s embrace, he noticed Koumyou standing just outside of the door, with Sanzo swaying on his feet a step behind him. He closed his eyes and hugged Toudai a little tighter, until Toudai lifted his head and spotted them too.

“We’ve been having a heart to heart.” Toudai patted Goku’s back. “I’ve gained a new appreciation and understanding for the young man.”

“Ah. Well.” Koumyou came into the room and wrapped an arm around Toudai. “A new year, a new outlook, isn’t that right?” He then patted Goku’s knee, squeezing it through the velvet of Toudai’s robe. “And if my understanding is correct, hopefully an improved you.”

Goku shot Sanzo a raised eyebrow, and he hung his head. Goku quickly understood that Sanzo had likely felt the need to explain, and shot him a winning beam. He knew he’d have to tell Koumyou next anyway. “Yeah, I hope so. The more my outsides match my insides, the better.” He opened an arm. “Hey, you wanna join in the big group hug?”

“No.” Sanzo folded his arms and propped his shoulders on the wall, but Koumyou got up just long enough to grab him by the collar of his shirt and yank him over to the hug pile. Sanzo flailed for a second, but finally begrudgingly let Koumyou and Goku hug him and Toudai.

“Since we’re all awake,” Koumyou said after a moment, “Why don’t I start some breakfast?”

“Nah.” Goku cuddled back into Sanzo’s chest, breaking the two of them away from Toudai and Koumyou. “I just wanted a midnight snack. I’m still kinda tired.”

“That’s fine, dear. Kouryuu, why don’t you take him back to sleep?” Koumyou captured Toudai’s hand in his. “Since we have a moment, Toudai and I are going to have a conversation now.”

Sanzo escorted Goku back up to his room and handed Goku a shirt from his drawer so Goku could keep his modesty. “That tight thing, don’t wear it so much. Can’t be good for you.”

“Thanks.” Goku turned and redressed, and when he turned around, Sanzo was already back in bed.

“Of course, the old men’ll be the death of you.” He stretched out on the side closest to the wall. “They’re probably plotting how to best help you right now.”

“Y'think?”

“I know.” Sanzo rolled over, leaving a very clear space beside him. “Get back in bed. We’ve got a few more hours before we have to start this new year.”

Goku thought it might be scary to come out to Sanzo’s parents, or to Sanzo himself. He should have known that it wouldn’t have been as bad as he’d thought, and that it would only make things better.

He jumped into bed next to Sanzo and cuddled up to his back, scenting his cigarettes and soap. He hoped that didn’t change. It seemed like maybe lots of things would, and all for the better.

“Happy New Year, Sanzo.”

Sanzo was already snoring, and he unconsciously wound an arm around Goku. He closed his eyes into the wee hours, already knowing it would be a good year.


	25. Student and Teacher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Goku asks questions, Hakkai may have answers. After all, some questions are more complicated than others.

**25: Student and Teacher**

“Thanks for meetin’ me, Hakkai!” Goku had waited outside in a coat that looked far too thin, so Hakkai thought, as the January bluster ruffled his hair. Hakkai tugged his scarf closer as he joined Goku under the canopy of the cafe Goku had suggested, somewhat out of the blue.

“Happy to, of course.” He granted Goku a smile, which Goku matched with his usual beam. “You said Gojyo was interviewing? Already? I thought he only put the ad out last week.”

“Yeah, but he already got like twenty responses. He picked out the best ten.” Goku scrunched his nose. “He said, ‘no reason to wait,’ and got down to business narrowing 'em down.”

“I see.” Hakkai held the door for Goku and let him enter first. “I’m glad he’s hiring help, but I do hope he’s not rushing for the sake of just getting it done.”

“Nah.” Goku drew his arms in tight, then unzipped his jacket and fanned his face. “But even though I know it’s not what he’s really doin’, I don’t like feelin’ like I’m bein’ replaced.”

“Why, Goku, you’re his valued pupil.” Hakkai ushered Goku into the long line in front of them. “He has stated to me that he wouldn’t have made it as far as he has without your help. He’s already promised you a position upon graduation, he just needs someone who can do everything that’s needed now.”

“Mm.” Goku bit his lip. “I’m kinda impatient, I guess.” Then, he looked around. “Hey, have you thought about setting up some tables in your shop? Not a lot, you need space for the breads and stuff, but maybe a couple little tables for people to drink their drinks?”

“It’s something that’s been suggested, yes.” Hakkai could read a subject change when Goku was flagging for one. “Sanzo and I were debating setting some outdoor tables up when the weather got warm, but we would love to put some small tables near the display window. Do you suppose it’d be a problem to move the croissants to the muffin display wall?”

He and Goku made small talk, but behind it, Hakkai was mulling Goku over. He and Goku were friendly, very much so – after all, he was seeing Hakkai’s longtime best (only) friend – but they rarely spoke outside of chance interactions at one another’s businesses. It wasn’t unusual for Goku to strike up friendly conversation with anyone in earshot, but Goku hadn’t invited him out until today. He had said that Gojyo interviewing was making him “antsy,” and he wanted to be distracted while it was going on. Gojyo had given Goku the afternoon off, and Hakkai was happy to take him somewhere away from both of their businesses. It was still unusual that Goku had asked him instead of Sanzo. Hakkai kept watching for any tells that betrayed what Goku was really going for, all while trying to remind himself that Goku was dreadful at hiding his intentions, and generally, he would tell Hakkai what he was really going for the second he was ready.

Sure enough, once they’d both gotten coffees and found a seat in a quiet corner, Goku leaned conspiratorially across the table. “C'n I ask you somethin’?”

“Anything.” Hakkai settled as Goku stared into his face, as if already searching for his answer in his eyes before even asking:

“How d'you know when you’re in love?”

Hakkai blinked a few times, then pressed his hand over his own heart. “My, you’re asking me?”

“Uh-huh.” Goku nodded, head bobbing like a chicken on speed. “You’re the smartest guy I know, plus, y'know, you an’ Gojyo are a thing, so if anyone knows, it’s you!”

“Oh.” Hakkai turned his chin down and covered his mouth as he thought. “My. I … I suppose. I’ve been in love before, so…”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Hakkai laced his fingers and let his gaze focus on his coffee cup instead of Goku’s wide eyes. “I was with someone for nearly four years.”

“Wow.” Goku gasped. “And you were in love with him?”

“I thought I was. I thought he was the only person who understood me like I did myself. I was wrong, very wrong.” Hakkai sighed. Leave it to Goku to ask a complicated question that sounded so simple. “It’s embarrassing to admit, I was rather different when I was younger. I thought myself too intelligent for most people my age; they bored me. I met… well…”

“You mean Nii, huh?” Goku grabbed his cup tight. “How much older is he?”

“He’s my senior by thirteen years.” Hakkai couldn’t meet Goku’s eyes. “We met when I was taking a philosophy course, one geared towards personal morality with regard to medicine. He was the professor.”

Goku gaped. “Really? So, uh, how’d you and he… y'know.” Goku made a few vague hand motions, which Hakkai interpreted as:

“Hook up?” Goku swiftly nodded, trying not to look embarrassed about it, and Hakkai reassured him with a vague smile. “He began to speak with me after class. He said he recognized me as one of Sanzo’s friends from school, and he said he knew me as 'the smart one.’ It started as casual conversation, and he eventually invited me to join him for coffee and conversation off campus.”

Goku nodded a few times, the wheels turning, synthesizing the new information, and after a moment, asked, “So, how’d you know you were in love with him?”

“I’m not certain, to be honest.” Hakkai traced the rim of his mug. “It just came naturally. Heated conversations about existentialism and the purpose of human life turned into passion, and it really was as stupidly simple as 'one thing led to another.'” He gave a little sigh, feeling oddly compressed under Goku’s scrutiny. Goku, however, didn’t seem distraught, and Hakkai knew he was only imagining any form of judgment.

“Yeah, but how’d you know it was right? You don’t just stay if you don’t care.”

“I did care.” Hakkai pushed some of his hair from his face. “He was… affectionate, and I reciprocated. He made me feel like I mattered, and I’d spent so much of my life convinced that I didn’t matter, not to anybody. I was lonely when I met him; my sister had moved to San Francisco for school, while I stayed close to home, and I was missing my other half. He was someone to talk to.” Hakkai pursed his lips for a moment. “Goku, love is sugar-simple and easy to tumble into. What you really should know is when it isn’t love.”

Goku’s eyes widened. “Whaddya mean?”

“Simply put, when someone is attractive and interesting, you feel the butterflies in your stomach and a knot in your throat when you see them or think of them. I imagine you have those sorts of feelings when you think about Sanzo.”

“Yeah.” Goku beamed, hunching his shoulders up. “And oh man. It’s the craziest thing, I actually kinda feel a little sick sometimes. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I feel sorta, y'know…” He struggled, squeezing his fists tight as he thought before spitting out: “Called to him. Like I’m supposed to be with him. Supposed to know him. Does that sound stupid?”

“Not at all.” Hakkai waved a hand, and Goku let his head sink as he took a sip of his coffee. “But those feelings don’t last. Even in good relationships, those puppydog feelings of early love dissolve after three years.”

“What?” Goku jerked stark upright, neck straight, eyes wide. “Only three–”

“It’s a scientifically documented phenomenon. 'Limerence,’ as it’s called, is the state of wanting a romantic relationship and desiring for romantic feelings to be returned, and it generally lasts three years.” He put on a watery little smile and tried a joke: “Those butterflies don’t live forever, after all.” Goku didn’t quite smile, but Hakkai went on anyway, “Only after that can one truly know if the bond they have formed will last.” Hakkai looked down into the coffee in his cup, his reflection dark, before swirling the mug and taking a sip. Goku took what Hakkai told him in, nodding.

“So, you’re saying that maybe I think I’m in love now, but I have to wait three years to know for sure.” He bit his lip. “What happened after three years with Nii?”

Hakkai winced, but he knew he owed Goku an answer. “I began to realize that the loneliness I felt was as strong as ever, perhaps even deeper. Somehow, Nii took my feelings that he was the only one who understood me, that nobody else could understand us, and convinced me that former mentors and friends couldn’t be trusted. His father wanted to break us up because he thought I was too young to be with Nii, but surely, I knew what was best for myself. Koumyou still saw me as a child, I should only speak to him when he’s willing to treat me as an adult. Sanzo was jealous, and if he wanted to be my friend, he would accept our relationship. All three of them had tried to convince me that Nii wasn’t a good choice, and I pushed them away. I began to feel lonely even when I was with Nii. He was still charismatic and intelligent, but I began to feel small, like my star was being swallowed by a black hole.”

Goku gaped. “That sounds awful.”

“I didn’t see it for what it was until my sister became ill and passed away. Only then did it all come together, and I had to be rid of him.” Hakkai pushed his cup away, giving up any illusion of being interested in it, and sighed. “It’s dreadful, though. I know Sanzo is nothing like that, and Gojyo even less so, but I worry. Truth be told, Goku, only you will know when you’re in love, and you’re smart enough to know when that bond is true.”

“I don’t think Sanzo’d ever hurt me like that.” Goku laced his fingers on the table, but Hakkai could see his fingers shaking. “I… I think I really like him, a lot. Maybe even love him. But I dunno if he feels the same way, and I dunno how long he’s gonna wanna keep me around.” He sighed a little. “And now his dads are trying to help me with stuff 'cause they like me, but I know I annoy Sanzo sometimes, what if he decides I’m too annoying or something?” He squeezed his fingers a little tighter and sank down in the chair. “What if he doesn’t like me like I like him?”

Hakkai took Goku’s hand in his. “Then you move on. His parents will do what they want and wrap up their own business, they’re allowed to make what choices they want.” He gave Goku’s hand a squeeze. “But really, you should enjoy it. And trust me when I tell you he does like you. He wouldn’t make the efforts he has made if he didn’t. Be patient with him, yes? You’re the first person I’ve seen him with, he’s still learning too.”

“Oh.” Goku smiled sheepishly. “Um, you have any ideas for me to help him along?”

“Take initiative. I think that if you can show him that you care, he’ll learn to show it in return.” Hakkai withdrew his hands and rubbed his chin. “Perhaps ask him out. He likes ice skating, and I believe there’s a frozen pond at a nearby park. You should take him, I think he’ll enjoy it.”

“Wow, really?” Goku leaned over the table. “That sounds like fun! I’ve never been before, maybe he’ll teach me how!”

“Certainly.” Hakkai lifted his coffee to his lips, his spirits raised by Goku’s enthusiasm. “In fact, he took me ice skating once when we were in high school. He’s graceful; I hadn’t expected it.” He smiled fondly at the memories, as Goku’s eyes widened. “It was embarrassing for me, though, I slipped and fell on top of him while he was guiding me on the ice. Fortunately, he didn’t shout at me. He actually laughed.”

“Huh.” Goku suddenly looked nervous, though Hakkai couldn’t fathom why. “I’ll think about it. Maybe…” He hesitated, before daring, “Maybe we could all go together. Like a double date!”

“Oh, that does sound fun.” Hakkai imagined Gojyo on ice skates, gliding carefully across a rink, his red hair blown in the wind and catching sunlight, and couldn’t suppress a smile. “Let’s ask them about it.”

“Yeah!” Goku was his usual eager self for a split second, but it waned after a moment. “Um. About Gojyo.”

“Yes?”

Goku’s face fell. “You said… you sound real nervous about love and stuff. Hakkai, what’s that mean for you and–”

Hakkai held a hand up. “Goku.” Goku bit his tongue. “Please don’t worry about us. We’re just fine.” He took a breath, then got his phone out. “Have I shown you the pictures I took of Ryuu yet?” He opened the gallery, and Goku gasped and leaned over the table so Hakkai could scroll through the entire gallery of Gojyo and Ryuu apparently having an argument over who got to sit closer to Hakkai.

It was a distraction. Goku likely knew it, he could read a subject change when someone else wanted it, but he likely could tell that pushing the issue would be rude. Hakkai wasn’t sure he was ready to completely think it through himself. Saying it out loud made it seem heavier: what if Hakkai was still too blinded by his fascination to see Gojyo for what he was? Even looking at the photographs of Gojyo scowling at Ryuu and trying to shoo him back as Ryuu swatted at him only made Gojyo seem like the man Hakkai thought he knew, but Hakkai couldn’t yet know if there was something else under the surface.

After all, he and Nii had still looked happy in the photographs Hakkai had shredded.

As Hakkai tried to lose himself in Goku’s eager squealing over Ryuu swatting at Gojyo and Gojyo chasing the cat back, Hakkai noticed something from the corner of his eye – someone watching him. He turned and saw a familiar face at another table: Hazel Grouse, that genial young man who’d been at the bar that one time and later at the bakery, rising to his feet. He seemed to notice that Hakkai had spotted him, and beamed and waved. Hakkai, unsure of how else to react, waved back. He was just a little too friendly, and Hakkai found himself in no mood for more friends. Instead, he tried to focus back on Goku, on Gojyo, and the happy memories he had.

The difficult things could wait. He had to deal with himself before he could  Hopefully, they could wait a long time.

* * *

Gojyo had cleared his afternoon schedule for interviews, though he found himself a little distracted through most of them, wondering what Hakkai and Goku were doing out together. Lucky jerks, out having coffee and probably talking smack about him while he was stuck talking to a bunch of brown-nosing kids and trying to figure out which one he could stand to be around the longest.

He’d called the ten people with the best credentials back. Most of them were fresh out of school, but he had one or two actual adults. All of them had one thing in common: they were faking any respect they had for him. He’d expected it, since he’d been in the same position not four years ago, but damn, they started out all nice, shaking his hand, then they actually looked at him and the fake smiles came out. He hated feeling like someone was seeing through him just from looking at him. "Probably should’ve expected it,” he muttered to himself as he made a note on the previous interviewee’s resume: 'would not quit staring at my hair.’

The last interviewee had a name Gojyo couldn’t pronounce, but the last name was nice and easy. He left his office to see a larger man with thick dreadlocks bound up behind his head occupying one of the chairs near the front door, and approached. “Mr. Hawk, right?” The big guy stood up – and Gojyo had to tip his head back, because the man towered over him. Then, he nodded. Gojyo waited, but Mr. Hawk waited too, his expression blank but not unfriendly. Gojyo motioned for him to follow. “Uh, you can come back. I apologize, but I’m having a little trouble with your name. How would you like me to say this?”

“Gat’s fine.” He shrugged. “Everyone else calls me that.”

“You don’t gotta. I’ll learn your name, it’s no big.”

Gat studied Gojyo, then muttered, “Nenegatty. Gat’s better. Faster.”

“You raise a good point. If you’re sure you’re good with Gat, Gat it is.” Gojyo grinned at him, and Gat cracked a thin, brief smile. “I’m Gojyo, this’s my shop, and if you’d like to step into my office, we can chat.”

Gat wasn’t much of a chatter. He squeezed into the chair opposite Gojyo’s paper-strewn desk and nodded as Gojyo confirmed his name and basic information, then reviewed the high points on his resume: “So, you did car repair for your family’s shop in Arizona?”

Gat nodded, then offered, “On the rez. Lots of older cars.”

“I gotcha, I gotcha.” That was interesting, anyway. “Says that was two years ago you left, any reason?”

Gat was quiet for a moment, then muttered, “Friend went to college here. Came with him to try somewhere new.”

“I guess you grew up on the rez, huh?” Gojyo set the resume aside and took Gat in. “If you don’t mind me asking, you Navajo?”

Gat evinced surprise for a split second, then answered, “Apache.”

“Cool. But I can see wanting to come new places after staying the same place your whole life.” Gojyo laced his fingers on the table. “What’s real important is if you got a valid certification.”

Gat nodded, and reached into his jacket for a folded-up piece of diploma paper. “Good 'til March. Was gonna renew it for California.”

Gojyo skimmed Gat’s certificate. “Hmm. It’s Arizona, but we can check and see if the Cali requirements match up. I can’t imagine they wouldn’t.” The guy was more experienced than him, his salary demand was totally reasonable, and even if he was quiet, he seemed honest enough. Gojyo had noticed one thing on the resume that he still had to ask about: “I see you’re still employed as a bartender. In fact, I remember you.” He grinned across the table. “I dunno if you remember, but an ex-buddy of mine and some of his dudes decided to pick a fight at your bar, and you had to break it up.”

“You and your friend were okay, right?” Gat clearly did remember, his expression somber. Gojyo snorted.

“We’re just fine. Still together, even. So, uh, why’re you leaving that job?”

Gat shook 'no.’ “I’m not. It’s a night job, part-time. You’re advertising for daytime work, full-time. You close at six. My shifts start at eight. No overlap.” Gat then bowed his head forward, gripping the arms of the chair. “Is that a problem?”

“Nah. I mean, if you can handle it.” Gojyo tried to run the math in his head, but if what Gat was saying was true, he would probably be working the same amount of hours that Gojyo was now. “If you’re willing to do the work, then I’m willing to have you. You got any questions?”

Gat had a few questions, what kind of repair work Gojyo did the most of, what the clientele was like, how many cars the garage averaged in a week: good stuff that Gojyo would have wanted him to know. Gat seemed like a perfect fit on the surface, and Gojyo didn’t even want to think about the last bunch of guys who’d sat in his chair. Gojyo wrote a number down on Gat’s resume and pushed it towards him. “How’s that sound for a yearly salary, Mr. Gat?”

Gat’s eyes widened. “More than I asked for.”

“I like you.” Gojyo grinned. “I wanna give you the ten-to-six shift and make you a closer, so I can change to a six-to-four, and make you a keyholder. When can you start? I want you to meet the receptionist and apprentice, so I’ll make sure they’re both on schedule. That is, if you’re willing to take the position.”

Gat rose and extended a big hand to Gojyo, and Gojyo stood and shook it, as Gat gave his earnest answer: “Thank you.”

“Thank _you_.” Gojyo grinned at him. “Let me get the forms printed out, and we can shake out all the details.”

Gat filled out the paperwork without complaint as Gojyo figured out how to factor Gat into the payroll, but when he finished and held them out to him, he repeated, “Thank you. We needed this.”

“Hey, man, I get it.” Gojyo put the papers down behind him (work for future Gojyo), and took Gat’s hand for another hearty shake. Gat just shook his head again.

“My friend… he needed me to get this. Student debt.” He gave Gojyo a significant look, and though Gojyo wasn’t sure what it meant, he nodded.

“I gotcha. We all got stuff we gotta handle.”

Gojyo could watch Gat depart with a smile on his face. He’d just given a good man a job, and he was going to cut his hours so Hakkai would worry a little less. He figured when Goku was done school, he might even be able to get another day off. Maybe Tuesdays. That thought was akin to reclaiming a little of the life he’d given up for the sake of being good. It’d be worth it, because he had something better than good.

“Only up from here, right?” He grinned to himself, at the cloudy sky, and his mind drifted right back to Hakkai.

* * *

Hazel was waiting for Gat at the bus stop. His thin, lithe hand slipped naturally into Gat’s palm, and Gat squeezed his fingers just a little, eliciting a stifled giggle.

“How’d your interview go?” Hazel looked up to Gat (he had to, the man was two heads over him), and Gat nodded.

“Got the job.”

“That’s great! Gosh, it’ll be nice to have a good source of income!” The bus pulled up just then, opening its doors, and Hazel pulled his hand from Gat’s to clamber on first. “Your bartendin’ is great, but it sure is expensive to live 'round here on one income!”

“Close to your school, yes,” Gat agreed cautiously.

“I’d work if I could, but my course load’s killer,” Hazel went on as if he hadn’t heard him, his voice bright enough to be heard clearly over the low murmur of the rest of those riding the bus as he edged his way down the center aisle and to an empty bench. “Y'got no idea how much I appreciate all you do for me.”

“Mm.” Gat sat on the outside edge of the bus seat, corralling Hazel in towards the window. Hazel whipped out his phone, and spoke to Gat in a stage whisper:

“I just happened to see Mister Hakkai out and about with the apprentice from that shop. Heard a little of the conversation, too. Forgive me a sec, just gonna text the Prof.” Gat’s eyes widened, and Hazel frowned and turned from his phone to stare him down. “Somethin’ wrong?”

It sounded so casual. Gat shook his head. “I don’t like it.”

Hazel’s features sagged. “I know y'don’t, darlin’.” He kept his voice low, but kept typing. “But me and Professor Ukoku got this arrangement, and if I gotta nose into this Hakkai fella’s life to keep him happy, so be it. We’re just lucky you’re in on the other end now with – what’s his name? Gojyo?”

“Mm.” Gat would have lied if there’d been a point to it. He also would have told Hazel that Gojyo happened to be a stand-up man, friendly and warm, if it would make a difference. “He’s nice.”

“Well, I’m sure, but do keep an eye on him. I ain’t quite sure what Professor Ukoku’s lookin’ for, but he says he’s concerned for Hakkai’s welfare, so anything funny ought'a come to him.”

Gat slid down in the bus seat. “What’d you hear?”

Hazel, still typing, smirked. “Well, long story short, it’s clear to me they ain’t rock solid. If Professor Ukoku’s gonna swoop in and save him from that fella, he’s likely still got an opening.”

Gat wanted to ask how Hazel could possibly think that this observation could have any sort of beneficial purpose, but he knew Hazel would tell him the same thing as always:

“The professor asked me to take care of it, so I will. We all do what we gotta, ain’t that right?”

Gat silently observed as Hazel finished his text message to his teacher, then let his arm rest against Hazel’s. Hazel gasped softly with surprise, drawing away for a moment, then relaxed into Gat. “I know you don’t approve,” Hazel said sotto voce, and Gat hummed. “But hopefully, it’ll be over soon, an’ we can just get back to bein’ happy here.”

Gat hoped he was right. He cautiously shifted so that his arm slung around Hazel’s shoulder, anticipating that Hazel might shrug him off. Today, he didn’t.

“You’ll help me, won'cha?” Hazel settled against Gat’s side, gazing out the window at the town passing them by. The wheels rattled as they crossed the train tracks. “Keep an eye on that Gojyo fella. The sooner we get what the Prof’s lookin’ for, the sooner we’ll be done.”

Gat hummed. He hoped Hazel took it as agreement. All Hazel needed to know was that he would do what he had to. He’d long since learned, on the floor of his grandfather’s cabin and under the hood of the neighbors’ rusty pickups and sedans, to take care of one’s own business in the way one saw best fit. He wouldn’t go back on that now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Gojyo and Gat used the term “rez,” it is short for “reservation.” I do not know if Gat is canonically of Apache origin, but the patterning on his bandanna made me think of Apache art I’ve seen. If you wish to correct me, please let me know!


	26. On Ice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goku and Hakkai’s idea for a double date gets an appropriately chilly reception from Gojyo, especially when Gojyo finds out that he’s got competition…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have been inspired by recent anime pop culture. Sorry!

**26: On Ice**

“Ice skating?” Gojyo’s jaw fell open, but he quickly filled it with a mouthful of the coffee Hakkai had brought him. Hakkai chuckled from across the counter of the shop and held out a napkin.

“Yes, Goku reminded me of when Sanzo took me ice skating in high school. There’s a park nearby that sets up a rink on a frozen pond.” He waited for Gojyo to swallow. Gojyo tried to hide a frown. He didn’t know jack about ice skating, and Hakkai probably figured as much.

“I guess it’d be fun, but you’d have to show me how it’s done, yeah?” Gojyo chuckled a little and tried to gesture what he thought ice skating might look like, his hands out in mock-balance. “You know, hold my hand real tight and go real, real slow.”

“Oh, I see.” Hakkai smothered a soft laugh. “I’ll teach you, of course. But you’ll go?”

“Of course, babe.” Gojyo grinned and leaned over the counter. “Just say when. You know when I’m free.”

“I do.” Hakkai’s smile was one of approval, but Hakkai had been much happier with him of late. He’d been ecstatic when Gojyo told him he’d hired someone to close the shop five days of the week, meaning Gojyo could get to him sooner. “I’ll talk to Sanzo and Goku and see when they’re available. It’ll be fun as a group.”

“Hey, I know when Goku’s available. I’ve got his class schedule and work schedule.” Gojyo grinned and tapped the calendar behind him.

“He may have other commitments.” Hakkai folded his arms and gave Gojyo a mock-stern look. “I know Sanzo may.” His brow furrowed, and he added in a hush: “His father – Toudai – he’s gotten some bad news about his health, and both Sanzo and Koumyou have been involved in helping make long-term arrangements.”

“Long term, huh?” Gojyo frowned. “Is it that bad?”

“Worse than that.” Hakkai sighed, happiness slipping from him. Gojyo flinched, but forced his smile back.

“Well, this’ll be a nice distraction for ‘im! Find out when he’s not busy, we’ll put it together!”

Hakkai admired Gojyo for a moment, eyes alight, then kissed his cheek. “I will. I’d best be returning. Will I see you tonight?”

“Depends.” Gojyo winked. “What’s for dinner?”

Hakkai crossed his arms, a smile playing over a failed attempt to look stern. “If you’re on time, I’m making baked chicken roulade filled with a savory mushroom relish. If you’re late, you get microwaved hot dogs.”

Gojyo smirked and leaned over the counter. “Guess I’ll just have to learn to teleport. Make sure I walk in the door right on time. I’ll be there.” He kissed Hakkai on the nose. Hakkai kissed him back on the mouth, lingering on his lips like caramel, and Gojyo tried to enjoy watching him leave. He was as beautiful from behind as from the front, his every step taken with grace. Hakkai was so good at everything, it damn near drove Gojyo up the wall.

“Guess I’ll have to try an’ learn to ice skate, too.”

* * *

Hakkai hadn’t been kidding about the outdoor rink. Gojyo had been to this park a few times (he had still had Sundays off to go flirt with joggers, at least back when flirting with joggers was important), but now that the duck pond was rock solid, its face had changed. The mountains had caught every snow cloud passing through, and the ground was blanketed in brightest white. There were more benches set up now and a trailer set up for skate rentals, but Gojyo was only really aware of one thing:

“Cold as balls and ain’t no shelter!” Gojyo wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck, trying to cover the little gap his sweater left, as Hakkai laughed politely and guided Gojyo towards the skate rental.

“I told you to dress warmly. Let’s go, it seems Sanzo and Goku have beaten us to the punch.”

Gojyo worried for a second that they wouldn’t have his shoe size, but luckily, there was a set in his size. Hakkai marveled at them for a moment, giggling, “Goodness, I don’t think I’d noticed that you had such large feet.”

“You know what they say about guys with big feet.” Gojyo smirked and carried the skates by their laces, eying the blades for a moment before grinning back at Hakkai. “Huge shoes.” Hakkai laughed softly, and followed him as they approached Goku and Sanzo.

Sanzo had clearly known that the weather would be cold, bundled in an olive-green peacoat, a beige knit cap, and a beige and green checked scarf. His gloves were off to give him the dexterity to tie his laces. Goku, too, wore a thick, down-filled coat (though his had obviously been mended in a few spots), a hunter’s cap with earflaps, and he had his gloves on. He raised a hand to hail Gojyo and Hakkai as they approached, beaming.

“Over here! Glad you made it!” He stretched his legs out in front of him, showing that his skates were on but not tied. Sanzo glanced up from lacing his skates and acknowledged the others with a curt nod, then scowled up at Goku.

“Hold still, I’ll get it in a second.” He scooted over on the bench to make room for Gojyo and Hakkai, and Hakkai sat and started to untie his boots.

“Be sure you tie them on tight, alright, Gojyo?”

“Snug, but not too tight,” Sanzo advised. “They’re meant to be an extension of your foot, but if it squeezes your toes, you won’t be able to balance, and it’ll hurt.”

“Jeez, I had no idea I was gonna end up squeezing my toes off.” Gojyo chuckled and yanked his boots off anyway, then slid his feet into the skates. They were already snug. He winked at Hakkai. “Promise you’ll carry me home if my feet fall off, hey?”

“Why not try the skates before jumping right to crutches?” Hakkai giggled to himself and continued tying his skates on. Sanzo scoffed.

“I’ve never had a problem. Only idiots have trouble tying–”

“Hey, Sanzo?” Goku kicked one foot out. “I’m having trouble gettin’ the laces right. Could you help?”

Gojyo smirked as Sanzo’s nostrils flared, but Sanzo silently crouched down in front of Goku and looped his laces up. “What was that about idiots, High and Mighty Sanzo?’”

“They shut up when they know what’s good for them.”

Sanzo laced Goku’s skates with a practiced hand, squeezing the bridge of his foot in a few places. Gojyo watched him, then tried to imitate, weaving the strings in and out and across each other to the top, tugging the laces taut. Hakkai’s fingers joined his, and Gojyo glanced up to see Hakkai had already put his skates on and was knelt in front of him, focusing on his shoes.

“Not too tight, okay?” Hakkai tugged one of the laces. “And keep them even. Otherwise, you’ll be unbalanced.”

“Thanks.” Gojyo’s heart warmed at the sight of Hakkai smiling up at him, but went on tying his laces, albeit a little slower so Hakkai could help him more. Beside him, Goku looked extraordinarily pleased to have Sanzo’s help, and even threw Gojyo a smug little smirk that said, 'look what I got.’ Sanzo patted Goku’s skate as he finished, and stood, balancing on the blades of his skates with ease in the snow on the ground.

“I suppose the two of you are novices.” Sanzo glowered between Gojyo and Goku. “There is a kiddie rink. Perhaps we should go there first.”

“Pfft, ain’t no kid.” Gojyo stuck his tongue out as Hakkai backed away to check the ties on his skates, then checked out his own feet decked in off-white skates. He grinned to himself. “They’re like knife shoes.”

Sanzo’s even expression sunk to a scowl. “What?”

“Goku, check it out!” Gojyo jumped to a stand, wobbling as he caught his balance for the first time. “Holy shit – I’m standing in the knife shoes!”

“Language,” Hakkai scolded, glancing pointedly at a few small children a few rows away, but Goku choked on his laughter.

“Oh man, they are knife shoes!” He bounded to a stand, stumbling a little as he tried to find his balance on the thin edges, but chased Gojyo a few steps into the snow. “Hey, why don’t they use these in, like, action movies and stuff!” He kicked one leg out. “Wha-taaa!” Then, he crashed into an awkward stand trying to catch himself and Gojyo howled with laughter.

“Shit, that’d be so cool!” He tried to strike a fighting pose, but fell onto his face in the snow, still laughing. Sanzo and Hakkai looked on from the bench, Sanzo impassive, Hakkai caught between amusement and embarrassment behind a strained smile.

“We do know how to pick our friends, don’t we?”

“Speak for yourself.” Sanzo stomped over to them, hooked Goku’s arm in his and yanked Gojyo up by the collar of his jacket. “Both of you, kiddie rink, now.”

“Aww, m'not a kid!” Goku whined, and Sanzo scoffed.

“I beg to differ.” He dragged both Gojyo and Goku along, with Hakkai following behind, and Gojyo heard him mutter something vaguely insulting towards the both of them, to the reward of a soft laugh from Hakkai.

Hakkai and Sanzo waited outside of the little ring set up at the edge of the pond as Gojyo and Goku took their first few steps on the ice, watching an instructor who was very obviously talking to the elementary-school children sharing the space with them. Gojyo practiced pushing himself off on the back heel, skating a few slides forward to the other end, and gliding his way back. He could tell Hakkai and Sanzo were talking, but he couldn’t entirely tell what. He caught a snippet of their conversation as he paused for breath:

“… seen actual monkeys more graceful than him.”

As if to prove his point, Goku went ass-over-teakettle again, his skate somehow slipping behind his head. Gojyo snorted, but steadied himself on the side of the rink so he could bend down and help Goku up. He could hear Hakkai laughing at Sanzo again as if his grouchiness were witty, and he noticed Goku frowning as he stood.

“This was a terrible idea.”

“What'cha mean, monkeybrains?”

“I shouldn’t'a invited Sanzo ice skating. I dunno how to ice skate.” Goku nodded towards Hakkai and Sanzo. “Hakkai said Sanzo likes it and took him before, so I thought he’d have fun.” He scowled. “'Cept Hakkai knows how to skate, and Sanzo knows how to skate, and Sanzo used to crush on Hakkai–”

“What?” Gojyo’s eyes widened, and he spun around to look at the pair of them again. Big mistake. He slipped and fell directly on his ass, and Goku snickered.

“He said it was a while ago.” Goku tried to lean down to pick Gojyo up, but had to catch himself on the bar. “Sanzo said the one time he took a guy on a date before me, it was ice skating, and Hakkai said Sanzo used to take him ice skating. Two plus two.” He made a weird face, smiling but obviously anxious, even as Gojyo tried to slide back to a stand. “I guess thinking about that and seeing the two of them over there worries me a little.”

Gojyo grimaced, and not just because the cold was seeping through his jeans. He could actually picture Hakkai and Sanzo gliding in graceful circles around the rink, hand in hand, and the idea set a flame in his chest. Shit, they’d actually have been a cute couple. Maybe even good together. He had known Hakkai had dated before him, had partners before him, but seeing someone who’d been connected to Hakkai before him so close to him felt like hot air in his lungs and smoke in his heart. He straightened himself up. “You know when?”

“Huh?” Goku followed Gojyo’s sightline to Sanzo and Hakkai again. “You mean when they… They never dated, Sanzo said. Sanzo said his brother got to Hakkai first. But it was back when they were in high school.”

“Sanzo has a brother?” Gojyo frowned. “And he and Hakkai dated?”

“Mhm.” Goku’s face fell. “Apparently it ended real bad between them. His name’s Nii, and I met him, and he’s a huge jerk.” He scrunched his nose. “He’s a college professor, I think, and he doesn’t get along with Sanzo or his dads, and I think Sanzo doesn’t want him and Hakkai to talk anymore.”

“You sure know a lot.” Gojyo felt himself tense up. “How d'you…?”

“Told you. I met him,” Goku mumbled. “He came to his dads’ house while I was there once and tried to make Sanzo give him Hakkai’s number. Sanzo wouldn’t, and basically said Hakkai never wanted to see him again.” His cheeks turned bright pink. “And I told him Hakkai had an awesome new boyfriend, so he should maybe take a hike.”

Gojyo wasn’t sure whether to hit the kid or slap him on the back. He settled for slapping him on the back hard enough to topple him off the railing. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, kiddo. Also, thanks for telling me any of this.”

“Jerk!” Gojyo rolled his eyes and helped Goku back to his feet, as he hurriedly brushed himself off and scowled at Gojyo. “Look, I didn’t say nothin’ before 'cause–”

“Hey!” Sanzo barked from where he and Hakkai were. “If you two have time to fool around, then you’re done practicing.” He stormed over, but took Goku’s wrist with gentleness that didn’t match his expression. “Come on, I’ll teach you now that you can stand on your own.” He led Goku onto the main rink, and Gojyo found Hakkai waiting a few steps back, smiling and fixing his scarf.

“You seemed to be having an interesting conversation. What were you talking about?”

Gojyo panicked on the inside for a second, but shook it back. “Eh, stuff. He was just telling me 'bout how long you and Sanzo’ve known each other. I thought Koumyou was exaggerating.”

“Ah! You know, I’ll have to take you to Koumyou and Toudai’s sometime.” Hakkai giggled to himself and closed a mitten-clad hand around Gojyo’s palm. “Koumyou has most of my childhood photographs. I’m afraid I was a rather unpleasant child, though. It would have been charitable to describe me as 'sullen.’ I doubt I smiled for a single camera.”

Gojyo struggled to imagine Hakkai as a child, even as a sulky little brat. He could only imagine the same man, just shorter and maybe with round-apple cheeks. “I’d love to see it. I bet you’re way cuter than you remember.”

Hakkai chuckled, but shook his head. “I’m much happier that I met you now, rather than then.” He led Gojyo to the edge of the rink. “Hold tight, won’t you? It’s been a while since I’ve been on the ice.”

“Yeah?” Gojyo unconsciously tightened his grip. “It’s my first time. We got this.”

Hakkai stepped down first, sliding a step onto the ice, and Gojyo followed. Hakkai wobbled for a second, but caught his balance, then tugged Gojyo’s hand. Gojyo took a few precarious steps after Hakkai, but watched his feet and made to follow. Hakkai soon looked natural, and Gojyo followed, clasping his hand tight.

Moving across the ice in the open air, amongst the shouting and shrieking of children chasing their parents, the cold wind in Gojyo’s face and hair, was exciting. Even more so, that Hakkai grabbed onto him as they swung around the curve and looped around the pond. Little bits of ice and snowdust blown by the breeze melted on their cheeks and bare skin, but Gojyo only felt the rush of motion and Hakkai’s pulse where it hummed under his thumb.

They twirled a few careful circuits around the rink, hand in hand, and Gojyo let himself sink into Hakkai’s warm hand and the even scrape of their skates on the ice, the hum of conversation and someone playing pop music on a cell phone radio. Then, Gojyo caught a glimpse of Sanzo and Goku. Somehow, Sanzo had coached Goku from barely being able to toe a straight line to smoothly skating the curves and balancing on his own as Sanzo twirled to skate backwards, facing him. Sanzo had a strange confidence, lax and steady, elegant and practiced. He made it look impossibly easy, even as Gojyo’s legs ached from the tension of holding his balance.

“Shit,” he muttered. “He’s good.”

“Hm?” Hakkai followed the angle of Gojyo’s face to see where he was looking. “Oh, Sanzo? He’s been skating for years. Toudai would take him skating often when he was young. He was in a few local competitions, but I don’t think he ever placed higher than sixth. Still.” Hakkai’s mouth curved into a knowing smile. “It’s somewhat unfair for you to compare yourself, your first time here, to someone who was ranked as the sixth-best skater in the county once.”

Gojyo felt steam under his collar. “I’m not comparin’, I’m just–”

“Are you jealous?” Hakkai nudged Gojyo’s ribs with his elbow, and Gojyo ducked a little as Hakkai slowed his pace.

“Ain’t jealous.”

“Really?” Hakkai laughed softly and tickled the center of Gojyo’s palm with his thumb. “Not even a little?” Gojyo chuckled, smiling helplessly, and shook his head, but then Hakkai tugged his hand and pulled him to a stop, and Gojyo had to catch himself. “Be honest, are you jealous?”

Gojyo huffed, his breath crystallizing into a big, smoky cloud. “Naw, c'mon. What do I gotta be jealous of?”

“I have no idea.” Hakkai gave Gojyo’s wrist another pull and guided him to the edge of the rink. “How about a quick break? I could use a warm beverage.”

Hakkai guided Gojyo back to their seats and left him sitting on the bench as he went to join the line for drinks. He left Gojyo with a warm kiss on the cheek, and encouraged him to watch others skating: “Watch and learn.” Gojyo stretched his legs out, surprised at just how much his calves ached, and observed, little kids holding their parents’ hands tight, teenagers in daisy-chains linked by their arms, a few people in the middle doing tricks in a ring marked off with orange cones. Gojyo caught sight of Sanzo again there, and squinted to watch as Sanzo started at one end of the center oval, picked up speed, then pivoted about, launched himself into a jump and spun in mid-air before landing on his heel and smoothly skating onward. The sunlight caught and gleamed off of his skate, blinding Gojyo for a split second. The sensation of steam building in Gojyo’s chest caught up with him again, and he gripped the bench.

Okay, maybe he was jealous.

Nobody liked knowing someone was better than him, and as he watched Sanzo twirl and dance through the center of the ring, his coat clinging to his form and his scarf swirling around him, he just felt that nag him harder, his fire burn a little hotter. So what if Sanzo was richer, had a college degree, and had stupid hidden talents like this? He was still an asshole! Besides, it wasn’t like Hakkai had gone with him, and Sanzo’d had his chance. And Sanzo was clearly showing off for Goku, who was watching him, enthralled, from the edge of the rink. Hakkai wasn’t even looking at him. Hakkai was more interested in getting cocoa. Gojyo still found himself observing Sanzo, no matter how hard he tried to look at anything else.

Fuck it, Sanzo wasn’t that hot shit. Him, Sanzo’s asshole brother, any of the guys who’d been lucky enough to get Hakkai’s attention, Gojyo was as good as any of them, and he’d prove it.

When Hakkai returned to the bench, Gojyo was gone. He frowned and looked around, only to catch a glimpse of the distinctive bright red of his hair from the trick ring in the middle of the rink. He hurried to the edge of the ring and tried to beckon Gojyo back. “Gojyo! That center area is for tricks and jumps!”

Gojyo seemed to hear that he’d been called, but not what Hakkai had said, as he turned and grinned and waved at Hakkai. Hakkai could see his mouth moving, but couldn’t hear him. However, he motioned to the space in front of him, and Hakkai immediately understood: 'Watch this!’

Hakkai sped out onto the ice towards the center of the rink, swerving around children and parents alike, as Gojyo backed all the way up to one end of the ring, then launched into a swift dash forward. He spun around and tried to kick off into a jump – Hakkai could kill whoever had showed him how to do that! – but the second his heel hit the ice, he lost his balance and flopped onto his back in the middle of the ice. A safety referee blew a whistle to clear the trick ring, and though Hakkai caught sight of Sanzo ushering Goku out of the way, he only stopped when he got to Gojyo’s side. Gojyo grimaced, but blinked up at him as Hakkai got onto his knees.

“I’m guessin’ I didn’t do a cool jump-spin.”

Hakkai shook his head. “No, no, you flopped like a fish launching itself out of an aquarium.” He sat back as the referee checked Gojyo’s eyes and looked him over.

“Are you in any pain, sir?”

“Mostly my pride.” Gojyo cringed and turned away from Hakkai’s gaze, then carefully rolled to a kneel. Hakkai helped him the rest of the way to his feet.

“I’ll take him and sit him down for a spell.” Hakkai put a habitual smile on for the referee, but escorted Gojyo off of the ice with a firm grip on his shoulder and arm. Gojyo at least had the sense of mind to look ashamed and hang his head low, even as Hakkai placed him on the bench and put the cocoa he’d gotten for him into his hands.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, gripping the cup in both hands, and lowering his face further as Hakkai sat flush next to him. Hakkai could see him breathing into the cup, blowing steam back onto his face. He rested his palm on the small of Gojyo’s back, and Gojyo shivered as the wet spot on his sweater was pressed against his skin.

“Gojyo, are you sure you’re alright?” Gojyo nodded a few times, wishing he could just melt like the ice soaking his pants. “Then, would you care to explain why you thought that was a good idea?” His tones sharpened. “Or perhaps, retrieve your beer from whoever you asked to hold it, since I can think of no other excuse for this other than inebriation?”

Gojyo muffled a groan in his throat. “I wasn’t drinking. I just, I saw him doin’ it, I thought I could do it too.”

“You mean Sanzo? But he’s had lessons and years of practice.” Hakkai crossed his arms, leaning down to try to catch Gojyo’s eye. He couldn’t quite read Gojyo’s expression, his eyebrows pushed low, his mouth sealed in a wide pout. “What’s wrong?”

Gojyo sniffed, then glanced up at Hakkai before focusing on his shoes again. “You know he used to have a thing for you, right?”

“Sanzo?” Hakkai raised an eyebrow. “Why, no, I hadn’t the first clue.” He smiled a little. “I suppose I’d best hurry away from you as quickly as possible and pursue that old lead, eh?” Gojyo shot upright like a bolt, gaping in horror, and Hakkai had to stifle a laugh. “You _are_ jealous.”

“I got nothin’ to be jealous of, he’s a jerk!”

“Yes, he is. He’s a jerk and an old friend, and yes, I knew he was attracted to me when we were teenagers.” Hakkai put a hand on Gojyo’s knee. “And I knew then that it could never work. I prefer someone more openly affectionate. Did you really think that I’d be distracted from you just because he’s better at this?”

Gojyo hung his head. “No, s'just… I guess it sucks for me to think that people you were with before are better'n me.”

Hakkai sat back, eyebrows raised with surprise. “Whatever makes you think any of them were any better than you? And better in what way, even? I don’t compare my lovers.” Gojyo scowled, but didn’t answer. Hakkai slid a hand onto his knee. “Have I made you feel like you’re less-than?”

“No,” he muttered. “Forget it.”

“I refuse.” Hakkai squeezed his knee. “If I have done that, then I must make amends.”

“No,” Gojyo repeated, shaking his head. “It’s me, okay? I just… I guess sometimes it’s hard for me to believe that someone like you could wanna be with someone like me, so if there’s someone near you that’s, y'know, better, I guess I get jealous.”

“I see.” Hakkai slid his hand up Gojyo’s leg, studying the shadow of his hair over his downcast eyes. “You know, you can repair a car, and lots of people can’t do that at all.” Gojyo hummed tonelessly. Hakkai squeezed his leg a little. “You’re charming. Ah, and you’re funny. I think you’re funny. You have a talent for making me smile. I don’t think I’ve met anyone with a bigger heart.” He slid his palm up to Gojyo’s chest. “Those are things that others I’ve been with can’t match. You’re unique. I don’t care that you can’t skate, or about any of the things that others are better at. I like you just as you are.”

Gojyo was quiet, but he brought a hand up and clasped it around Hakkai’s. "Makin’ me get a little misty here, babe. Thanks.” He sucked in air through his nose, then exhaled steam and faced Hakkai. “I was kind of an ass. Sorry.”

“I’m not angry with you.” Hakkai gave his hand a squeeze. “I should, perhaps, be flattered that you wanted to be the brightest thing in my view.” He kissed his cheek. “Now, are you in any pain? If you’d like, we can finish our drinks and take a few more laps. I really was enjoying skating with you.”

Gojyo lit up, his eyes as bright as the light glimmering off of the white snow. “Yeah, sure.”

Gojyo drank the rest of his cocoa, let Hakkai check him for bruises, then tightened his scarf around his neck. He also paused to make sure Hakkai’s hat was covering his ears, muttering that his lobes were cherry red. When they returned to the ice, Hakkai decided the time was right to admit: “I’m not very good at ice skating either. You may have noticed.”

“Huh?” Gojyo frowned, but Hakkai was already leading him onto the ice. There was a lot more space, as the sky had started to turn purple with dusk and people had gotten cold and cleared off, but Hakkai still skated close, his arm hooked around Gojyo’s.

“In fact, I only ever did it before because I was invited.” Hakkai looked and sounded wistful, his gaze far away as he thought of the last time he’d gone, how he’d fallen a dozen times and how Sanzo would pull him back to his feet, only to fall himself and take Hakkai with him and leave the pair of them snickering to themselves on the ice. “I remember it being fun, but only because of who I was with.” He smiled, unable to help it. “I wanted a few new memories,. It’s not that I enjoy skating, in and of itself. I wanted to enjoy it with you.” He held Gojyo’s arm tight in his as they took the curve in tandem, as Gojyo turned to stare at Hakkai, only to find himself admiring his profile against the winter sky.

“Didja have a little fun with me?” Gojyo tried to hold tighter to Hakkai, wishing he could just lock him in and keep him close.

“I am.” Hakkai held on a little more loosely. “Are you having fun?”

“Yeah.” Gojyo grinned, and pushed off the next slide forward with a little more energy, and Hakkai laughed softly.

“I suppose I’d hoped for a little more enthusiasm.” Hakkai loosened his grip turned, skating sideways without releasing Gojyo’s wrist. “Perhaps if I show you a trick?” He let go then, then turned a careful circle in front of Gojyo to loop to his inside, dancing carefully around him. Gojyo watched his lithe form spin in front of him, dazed for a second, but he whistled and clapped when Hakkai took hold of his other hand and led him through the next curve.

“Damn, you’re talented.”

“I learned a few little tricks.” Hakkai demurred and pivoted again, this time taking both of Gojyo’s hands. “Follow my lead, okay?” With that, he guided Gojyo back into the trick ring, but kept hold of his hands and guided him through a slow, swirling dance in circles. Gojyo tried to match his motions with Hakkai’s, letting him lead. His heart pounded a little faster as Hakkai’s expression cleared into a bright, genuine grin, and though snow and ice still flecked his cheeks and soaked through his jeans, he didn’t feel cold at all.

He also, at least for now, couldn’t possibly envy anyone else in the entire universe.

* * *

Sanzo and Goku had retired to the benches after a while on the ice, and while Goku occupied himself with a big cup of cocoa, Sanzo stood and flexed his aching feet while watching Hakkai and Gojyo dancing in the middle of the rink like the most awkward music box ballerinas he could imagine. “That was a ton of fun!” Goku groaned and stretched like a satisfied cat, then craned his neck to peer around at Sanzo. “Looks like they’re having a good time, too.”

“Mm.” Sanzo’s brow furrowed. “Idiots. The cockroach is gonna go ass-over again if he doesn’t watch his step.”

“Looks like Hakkai’s doin’ most of the turning here.” Goku eased up to stand and trudged to stand next to Sanzo, still wobbling though he’d traded his skates for his snow boots. “I’m just sorry you couldn’t do that with me. I’m pretty steady on the soccer field, but the knife shoes –”

“Say knife shoes one more time and you’re walking home.”

“Skates are super different.” Goku got onto tiptoes and stretched, his face twisting up for a second before he sighed it out and relaxed again. “D'you think you could show me more next time?” Goku lifted his arms over his head in another stretch and slipped one arm around Sanzo’s shoulder as he lowered them. Sanzo huffed a little, but as he lit up a cigarette, he made an affirmative noise.

“You’re learning. You’ll get there. I wouldn’t mind showing you.”

“Hehe.” Goku beamed, satisfied, and snuggled up to Sanzo’s chest. Sanzo scoffed, but made no effort to shake him off. “So, was this the best date you’ve ever had on ice?” He winked at Sanzo, and Sanzo raised an eyebrow.

“That’s a weird quantifier.” He leaned subtly into Goku’s arm around his shoulder. “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Sanzo let Goku lean into him, unconsciously leaning back as he exhaled a cloud of smoke into the chilly air. The heat in his lungs drove back the chill in the air, and Goku’s body against his sealed the warmth in.

He had a feeling Goku had wanted to do this because he’d mentioned taking someone else here before. He also suspected that Goku had figured out just who that 'someone else’ was. He wouldn’t play into any of Goku’s stupid jealousy, if that was his goal here, because there was no comparison. He’d had a good time and a new experience, and (if he was fully honest with himself) got to show off. It had been a good day.

He could worry about that little bit of jealousy much later. They were happy now.


	27. When the Cat's Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hakkai must go out of town on business, and asks Gojyo to house-sit... and cat-sit.

**27: When The Cat’s Away**

Gojyo was almost embarrassed of how obviously Goku could gawk at someone. He’d physically push the kid’s jaw shut if he weren’t trying so hard not to laugh at him. Gat, luckily, either hadn’t noticed or was pretending not to notice that both Goku and Lirin were taking him in, Goku like he was staring at a work of art, and Lirin as if she’d found a plate of cookies. Gojyo merely patted him on the back. “Guys, this is our new mechanic, I think I mentioned him, Nenegatty Hawk.”

“Just Gat,” Gat added in a mutter. Goku sucked in air when Gat spoke, and Gojyo had to stifle a chuckle.

“Right. Gat, the boy’s Goku, my apprentice, the girl’s Lirin, our receptionist.” He motioned between them, then clapped his hands together and addressed Goku and Lirin. “So, he’s gonna be here Tuesday through Saturday, closing the shop, and I’m gonna be leaving at four on days he’s here. That’s all. Gat, you need to know where anything is, you can ask anyone, but Goku’ll give you the tour.”

Goku squeaked, and Gat turned his steady, focused gaze towards him, but Gojyo’s phone went off, breaking the tension. “Ah, that’s all. Let’s get to it, kids!” Gojyo grabbed his phone as Goku nervously introduced himself again and showed Gat into the garage. Hakkai had sent a message:

_“Come over for lunch?”_

Gojyo grinned and typed back: _“Sure.”_

Hakkai’s response came before Gojyo could finish fixing his hair back into a ponytail: _“Sanzo will come grab you when it’s ready.”_

Gojyo blew a raspberry to himself, but replied, “Sounds good.” He heard something clatter, and leaned into the garage to find Goku had stumbled into a toolkit, then groaned and chased him down. “Tol'ja, monkeybrains, you gotta watch where you’re going!”

Gojyo kept catching Goku helplessly staring at Gat as they worked, and kept having to shake his head at the dumb kid. When Gat stepped out for a break, Gojyo caught Goku by the collar. “S'matter with you? You can’t just stare at a guy. Plus, you have a boyfriend!”

“Hey, just ‘cause I already ordered doesn’t mean I ain’t curious 'bout what else is on the menu!” Goku turned bright red. “An’ I’m just lookin’. That’s it. He’s really nice to look at but I’ll get over that.”

Gojyo raised an eyebrow, then mussed Goku’s hair and pushed his bangs into his eyes. “Fine. Just watch it. I don’t want Gat complaining to me about you.”

Despite Goku staring as if Gat were washing his car shirtless and using his own chest hair as a sponge, Gojyo couldn’t be happier. He was cutting his hours so he could get off at the same time as Hakkai most of the week! He could open another bay during the day and get more work done! He was one step closer to giving himself two days off a week. Gat was already worth the salary Gojyo had promised him, just for the promise of good things to come.

Gojyo busied himself through the day, but he had an ear open for the shop bell, and sure enough, Sanzo showed up right around noon. Gojyo heard Goku run out to greet him, and a brief shock of terse conversation between Sanzo and Lirin. Gojyo chuckled and went closer to listen.

“… droolin’ over at the new guy when you got a handsome boyfriend!” Lirin was pouting, but Gojyo hid in the little storage hall, a few feet behind where Goku stood, as she stomped her feet. Sanzo, standing near the door with his arms crossed tight, inhaled sharply and turned to glare at Goku. Goku laughed nervously, lifting his hands.

“You gotta see him, you’ll get it! He’s like seven feet tall and made of muscles!” Goku tried to estimate just how huge Gat was with his hands. “I mean, like, Gojyo’s got the sexy muscles, but I think Gat’s got even sexier–”

Gojyo nipped an arm out and grabbed Goku’s ear, yanking it to an exclamation of pain and panic, then stepped into the office and dragged Goku a step towards Sanzo. “Kid, you’re right on the knife’s edge of sexual harassment. Chill.” He then pushed Goku towards Sanzo. “How’s it goin’?”

Sanzo, looking like he’d sucked a lemon, tensed and took Goku by the arm. “I shouldn’t be surprised by anything anymore. Come on.”

“Yeah, sure. One second.” Gojyo turned and leaned back into the shop. “Yo! Gat!” Gat stepped back from the car he was working on to face Gojyo, an eyebrow raised. “Me an’ Goku were gonna grab lunch. You need anything, Lirin’s here and has my number, I’ll just be at the bakery on the other end of the block!” Gat nodded, and leaned right back into his work. Gojyo scratched his head. “Oh, you want anything? Coffee? Croissant?”

Gat tipped his head out from around the car hood again. “Black, and no, thank you.” Then, right back to work. Gojyo scratched his head and shrugged, but turned to find Goku, Lirin, and Sanzo at his shoulder, Goku and Lirin both grinning, and Sanzo with a face loaded with apoplexy as he examined Gat like a great big wall that had been dropped into his path. Gojyo had to force himself not to laugh, stuffing his tongue into the back of his throat like a gag for a second before he could talk without laughing.

“Guys, let’s go, I don’t wanna keep Hakkai waiting. Lirin, roll your tongue back into your mouth and mind the phone.”

Lirin stomped both feet, then stormed back to her desk. “Killjoy cockroach.”

“That’s my name, kid.” Gojyo grabbed his jacket and strode out the door with Goku and Sanzo in tow. He could hear them quietly talking – Sanzo defensive and argumentative, and Goku calm but a little confused – and smirked to himself.

Maybe Sanzo could use a little competition. Goku probably wouldn’t mind if Sanzo tried harder.

Sanzo directed Gojyo and Goku to the back door of the bakery, muttering something about not wanting customers to see them go in through the front, and unlocked the door for them before immediately directing both of them to wash their hands. Hakkai had put bowls out on one of the work benches and was laying out napkins and spoons, already wearing a smile when Gojyo approached. He set a hand on his hip and admired Hakkai, always so professional in his apron and cap, grinning with satisfaction.

“Seems like those few hours between when I wake up and when I see you again are just too long, babe.”

“The feeling is mutual; except I’m awake longer.” Hakkai finished setting out spoons and turned, pausing only to let Gojyo dust the flour from his sleeves before leaning in for a kiss. Someone scoffed behind them, and a sharp, teasing voice interrupted:

“I’m not sure that’s sanitary in my workspace.” Gojyo and Hakkai turned to find Sharak, dressed in colorful pajama pants and carrying a big purse, watching them with a smirk on her face and her hands on her hips. “Knock it off, I don’t think our disinfectant spray helps with cooties.”

Gojyo snorted, but Hakkai sighed his discontent with a disingenuous smile. “You remember Sharak, of course.”

“Couldn’t forget her. Nice to see ya.”

“Now, where were we?” Hakkai pulled Gojyo back to face him and kissed him square on the nose, then swept off towards the stove, speaking to the room: “I’ve made tomato soup and brioche melt sandwiches for everyone in the kitchen! There will be plenty in the pot if you can’t take your break yet!” He returned carrying a cauldron of soup, and Sharak laughed and held out one of the empty bowls to him.

“Psht. Brioche melt. Just call it 'grilled cheese,’ you ninny.”

“I didn’t grill it, so that would be inaccurate.” Hakkai filled her bowl with a single, neat ladleful, then turned to fill the rest of the bowls, explaining to Gojyo. “I baked some of our leftover brioche loaf slices with cheddar and dressed them with a bit of clarified herb butter. The brioche is rich and buttery, and when a little stale it’s absorbent, so it can pick up fantastic flavors. I love using it for sweet French toast, but it’s just as good for savory sandwiches.”

“I’d love to try it.” Gojyo took a bowl, as Sanzo pulled a tray of sandwiches from the oven and Goku followed with a stack of plates. Gojyo noticed that Sanzo made a point of giving Goku a plate and a sandwich as soon as Goku had put the rest of the plates down. Sharak grabbed a sandwich (over Hakkai’s quick protest to 'mind yourself, the sheet is hot’) and a bowl, then set her sights on Hakkai again.

“So, I don’t suppose you’ve told your boy toy here why you had to wake me up during the day.”

“Not as yet, no.” Then, Hakkai leaned in, eyebrows raised with excitement. “Did you bring the sample?”

“Damn right.” Sharak patted her purse, and Gojyo couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. Something had happened, and Hakkai looked absolutely delighted at the prospect.

Most of the kitchen staff milled around eating their sandwiches, but Sharak, Sanzo, and Hakkai gathered around Hakkai’s bench as Sharak took a package from her purse, a brown bag rolled shut tight. Goku and Gojyo leaned in from the back of the bench, frowning with curiosity. “I was told,” Sharak said with drama in her tones, “that this was packed the moment it was cool enough to be in an enclosed space and sent by Federal Express. The deliveryman woke Hassan up two hours ago. This is as fresh as it will be unless we go to their bakery ourselves.”

“Enough theatrics.” Sanzo grabbed a knife. “Open it.”

Sharak cut the package open, revealing a round mound of golden-crusted bread with an X cut into the top crust. The smell of fresh bread wafted into the air, that ineffable smell that spoke of hearth and comfort, and Sharak and Hakkai both gasped. Sanzo didn’t seem especially impressed, especially as he took up a serrated knife and carved it into little wedges. The inside of the bread was bright white, and as Gojyo took his piece, he noticed that it was springy and tender to touch, while the outside was hard and a little flaky. Hakkai tore a little bit off of his to taste, and nudged Sharak’s arm. “This is the real deal. I can taste it.”

“What the hell are you talking about? It’s bread.” Sanzo rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, sorry, babe, but I’m a little lost.” Gojyo took a nibble. There was a pungent tang to the bread, making his mouth water, and the flavor sparked in his mouth, but still: “It’s really good bread, but yours is better.”

“That’s our problem. It isn’t.” Sharak motioned to Hakkai. “Is there any sourdough from this morning left on the shelf? I’ll buy it.”

Hakkai returned with a sandwich-style loaf that had a similar flaky golden crust and the same bright white insides and passed slices around. Gojyo tasted Hakkai’s slice, and though it had the same flavor, there was something different. The bread Sharak had brought out of the bag had a scent to it that reminded him a little of good beer, just a little bitter, and maybe even a little more salt. Sanzo and Goku tasted for comparison, and even Goku shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Hakkai, but yeah, the other one’s better. So, what’re ya gonna do?”

Hakkai and Sharak both turned right to Sanzo, who grunted uncomfortably. “How much of an improvement will it really be, and will it be worth it in the long run?”

Gojyo and Goku looked to one another, both confused, but Hakkai noticed and turned to them. “This bakery is offering a four-day sourdough seminar. They’re a small shop, but well-known for having exquisite sourdough.”

“And,” Sharak added, excitement bright like citrus in her voice, “They’ll be providing their starter to other professional bakers!”

“That’s worth the cost of admission alone,” Hakkai added. “Sourdough is made without adding packaged yeast, but instead by harvesting the yeast in the air and growing it as a culture in your dough. You never actually bake all of the dough, either, you simply keep some and feed it and it renews itself. When we say they’re giving out their starter, I mean they’re giving out a piece of their dough for us to take back.” Hakkai tore off another little piece of the bread. “The wild yeast culture living and growing in that dough actually changes the flavor of the bread, depending on where the yeast is grown, because yeast cultures differ everywhere you go. Ask any connoisseur, however, and they’ll tell you the best cultures start in San Francisco.”

“The West Coast is generally accepted as having better cultures than the East Coast of America, as a rule, but San Francisco is king. There’s something in the air.” Sharak gesticulated, twirling her fingers in the air in front of her nose, but Goku curiously volunteered:

“Is it the salt in the air from the bay? Maybe you could just add more salt to your dough.”

“Sweet child.” Sharak shook her head and patted his hand. “Salt kills yeast.” She looked back at Gojyo as Goku stuck his lip out and hung his head. “Scientists have attempted to determine why San Francisco is consistently so much better, but there’s no consensus. It’s just like different bacteria cultures that naturally occur in water or in the common cold.”

“Wait.” Gojyo frowned. “But if you bring it up here, won’t the yeast up here, y'know, spoil the party?”

“Once a culture is started, it reproduces of its own. It may capture some of our natural yeast, but chiefly, it will be the original culture.” Hakkai ran his finger down the flaky crust of the round loaf. “We want to bring this bread here.”

“But this tightwad here–” Sharak thumbed towards Sanzo – “Won’t pony up for the seminar.”

“Am I made of money? Our gold card has a limit, you know.” Sanzo crossed his arms. “The asking price is exorbitant.”

“It’s not that bad.” Hakkai laced his fingers. “We’ll share a hotel room and take the train to save money. I’ll expense my own meals. I also know we’re not wanting for money right now. It’s an investment, Sanzo.”

“We will win awards with this.” Sharak sounded as certain as stone. “No other bakery in town will have bread like this. We can even market it as such: Real San Francisco Sourdough! The tourists and vacationers will love it.”

Gojyo found himself nodding along, until something Hakkai had said caught him by the ear: _“We’ll share a hotel room.”_ “Wait, Hakkai, you’re going too?”

Hakkai faced Gojyo, eyebrows knit up, but nodding. “I want to, yes. I’d like to learn the techniques so I can train any new hires. That is, if we do learn them.” He turned back towards Sanzo, his smile entreating an answer. Sanzo finally sighed with disgust.

“Fine. Fine, sign up. This better be the goddamned bestseller bread next month, and if I find out you got yourselves a fancy-ass suite at the Ritz, I’ll bury you. Two double beds at a HoJo, and don’t expense anything pricier than a McDonald’s trip or I’ll take it out of your skin.”

Sharak cackled and kissed Sanzo on the cheek, to a disgusted grimace. “Fantastic! I’ll make the reservations.” She patted Hakkai on the back. “I’ll text you the details before I go back to bed. See you in the morning!” Sharak wolfed the rest of her sandwich down and stuffed a wedge of the sourdough bread back into her purse before sauntering out, and Gojyo turned back towards Hakkai, his heart beating a little harder.

“When’re you gonna be gone?”

“If all goes according to plan, from this Friday until next Tuesday.” Hakkai bit his lip. “I… should I have cleared this with you first?”

Gojyo shook his head. “Nah, you’re your own man, of course you can go. This’s important to you, why would I stop you?” He grinned broadly. “You just gotta bring me a souvenir.”

Hakkai’s face crinkled with joy. “Of course I will.”

“Me too!” Goku tugged Hakkai’s apron. “You gotta get pictures!”

“There won’t be time for sightseeing, but I’ll get souvenirs.” Hakkai laughed a little and backed away from Goku, then put his hand over Gojyo’s. “And can I ask a favor of you?”

“Anything, babe.”

Hakkai squeezed his palm. “Will you take care of Ryuu while I’m gone?”

Gojyo’s face froze in a smile. There was the fucking rub. “Sure. You got it.”

For all the upsides, there was always something, right?

* * *

Gojyo loved their new normal, for the most part. He got home in the afternoon (the same time as Hakkai now that Gat was working evenings), he kicked his boots off and washed his face, and he was greeted with Hakkai’s happy kiss, a glass of water, an offer for tea, and an request for him to tell Hakkai all about his day. Then, there was dinner, and it was always good, and Gojyo got to enjoy Hakkai’s company. Then, they’d sit on the sofa, cozy and happy, and Hakkai could read and Gojyo could watch whatever he wanted on the little TV in Hakkai’s hutch.

Usually, though, Ryuu would slink up, jump directly between Hakkai and Gojyo, and hiss and spit at Gojyo whenever Gojyo reached for Hakkai. Even when he wasn’t trying to get fresh! Ryuu had the meanest face when he stared at Gojyo, fierce like a little tiger with his teeth bared, and if Gojyo did just try to reassure himself, 'it’s just a cat, what can he do to stop me?’ and reached past him to tousle Hakkai’s hair, he’d usually be rewarded with a swipe of claws across the forearm. Hakkai would tut Ryuu, but Ryuu would bump his head against Hakkai’s palm and purr and be immediately forgiven, and then Hakkai would clean Gojyo’s battle wounds. Ryuu seemed to know exactly what he was doing, glowering at him from over the edge of the sofa as Hakkai dabbed the blood from his arm.

Gojyo wanted to like the cat. The cat just plain didn’t like him.

Even the night before the trip, Ryuu was sitting in Hakkai’s suitcase and giving Gojyo the stinkeye as Hakkai stacked up pairs of pants and socks around him. “I know he can fuss at you, but thank you for agreeing to mind him.” Hakkai smiled at Gojyo over the suitcase, even as Ryuu batted one of the pairs of socks off of the bed.

“I’m happy to help, babe.” Gojyo shrugged, but kept a healthy distance from Ryuu even as the cat craned his neck back around towards him. “I mean, I see how you do for him. Half a cup of kibble in the morning and at night, spoonful of the wet food at night.”

“Yes.” Hakkai pulled a few shirts from his drawer. “Scoop the litter every day, and it’ll need to be dumped and changed on Sunday.” He tucked the shirts into the suitcase, then turned back to his chest of drawers, frowning. “Hmm. And you should try to play with him.” He began to busy himself with something or other in the drawers. “He likes the feather duster, he’ll chase it around. He clearly has a strong hunting instinct.”

“Yeah.” Gojyo set his hand on his hip, and Ryuu immediately crouched on his haunches, ready to pounce. “I noticed.”

Hakkai giggled, but didn’t turn around. “Ah, and you can throw his jingly ball, and he’ll chase it. Anything you can do to keep him at arm’s length, I suppose. I do wish you two got along better.”

“Me too.” Gojyo turned his arm over and scowled at the most recent set of scratches, which were still weeping just a little. “But I guess the claw marks are getting more shallow.” He grinned and showed them off, and Hakkai merely sighed and shook his head.

“Perhaps you two can bond while I’m gone. I really would like you to get along.” Hakkai turned and gestured to his chest of drawers. “Especially with how much you’re around, which is why I’ve done this.” Gojyo realized Hakkai was displaying an emptied drawer and a broad smile. “It’s a bit silly for you to have to carry your things in an overnight bag when you’re here six nights a week. Why don’t you bring a few changes of clothes with you to keep here?”

Hakkai had made space for him. Even with his jerk cat hissing and spitting at him, it was reassuring that there was still room for him. “I don’t got much, but I’ll bring some stuff here.” He circled the bed to stand next to Hakkai (staying well out of Ryuu’s swat radius) and took both of his hands. “It feels like home more and more every time I come in and see you here waiting.” He kissed across Hakkai’s forehead, then smiled into his skin. His hair smelled good, sweet like sugar, rich with Hakkai’s natural scent. “You want me to take you to the train station tomorrow? That way, you don’t have to leave your car there, so it won’t get damaged or stolen or nothing while you’re away, and I can say goodbye to ya last thing before you go and be the first to see you when you’re back.”

Hakkai sank into his chest, his chin propped on Gojyo’s shoulder. “Please.”

Ryuu was swatting at Gojyo’s pants pocket, his little claws tearing at the denim, face curdled up like a little goblin’s. Gojyo held Hakkai tight and ignored him. The hum of Hakkai’s heartbeat against his chest was so much more valuable than any ragged pair of jeans and more important than anything else in the universe at that moment.

* * *

Seeing Hakkai off at the train station was only a little heart-achy. They kissed on the platform, Hakkai pausing to tousle Gojyo’s hair and rub his nose against his before breaking away and stepping onto the train to be welcomed with a few teasing jabs from Sharak. Gojyo watched the train leave, then returned to his car to get on with his day.

It was only four days, and Hakkai had promised to text him when he wasn’t busy. That wouldn’t be so bad. They’d had days when they were too busy to see each other, this was just like that.

The uncanny part kicked in when he got back to Hakkai’s house and opened the door to find just Ryuu there in the dim living room, curled up on the couch. He lifted his head just to hiss at Gojyo, then settled back in the very middle of the cushion as Gojyo threw his jacket onto the banister. Gojyo sniffed to himself and made a face at the cat, then tried to sit on the far left of the couch. Ryuu yowled and clawed at him, and Gojyo jumped off the couch and moved to an empty chair. Ryuu’s beady little eyes followed him as he sat and yanked his phone out to text Hakkai.

_“Home sweet home. It’s quiet without you.”_ He sighed and settled in after hitting send. Gojyo could still feel Ryuu staring him down, and though he found the TV remote and flipped the set on, the house was still too quiet.

Maybe there just wasn’t enough in it. Usually, Hakkai would be flitting around the kitchen in his apron by now, or settled up reading a magazine or a cook book, and the house would smell like Heaven. Instead, Hakkai had made four lunches in sectioned Tupperware containers and three dinners for Gojyo to heat up for himself, complete with little post-it note instructions on how each one was best served. Gojyo had Hakkai’s shadow here, but the lack of his substance was darkening Gojyo’s mood.

Gojyo’s phone chimed with a message, and Gojyo read: “ _You could always invite Goku and Sanzo over. I’m sure Goku would love to meet Ryuu. There’s an after-dinner session, so I can’t talk now, but I’ll call before bedtime.”_

Then came another message, this one a photograph: Hakkai holding the phone at arm’s length above him, his face and cuffs dusted with flour, looking down into a vat of bubbly-looking dough. Gojyo couldn’t help but grin and turn his own phone towards himself. Ryuu jerked to attention at the first flash and crossed the sofa to take a closer look, but Gojyo didn’t notice. Instead, he checked the photo and grimaced. He’d blinked. One more try. He held up the phone again, but when he checked his work, he saw that Ryuu had stuck his head in the frame, looking inquisitively at the camera lens. Gojyo turned and saw Ryuu blinking off the flash, looking a little dazed. Gojyo found himself grinning with all his teeth and sent the photograph right off to Hakkai with the message:

“ _Check it out, he actually willingly came within five feet of me without mauling my arm!”_

He hopped up to his feet and headed for the kitchen, turning a few lights on and trying to decide which of the tasty things Hakkai had left for him. He could miss Hakkai all he wanted, but he’d lived most of his life in a world without Hakkai in it. He still had enough of Hakkai to keep things bright.

Soon enough, he had a bowl of stew, a bottle of beer, and a text sent out to Sanzo and Goku inviting them to come and hang. He made sure to scoop the litterbox and put Ryuu’s food out once he put his bowl in the dishwasher, just as Goku sent a text to say he’d be over soon, and Sanzo followed up with an offer to drive. Hakkai had put snacks in the cabinet and sodas in the refrigerator, as if anticipating that Gojyo would invite company over, and Gojyo put out a bag of pretzels right as the doorbell rang.

Goku gawked around Hakkai’s entryway, before hurriedly taking his shoes and jacket off. “Is there somewhere I can put this?”

“I'unno.” Gojyo shrugged, but Sanzo scoffed and took Goku’s jacket.

“There’s some hooks here. He probably always puts your jacket there without you noticing.” Sanzo shut the door to reveal a rack behind the door. Gojyo vaguely remembered finding his jacket there a few times after leaving his jacket wherever it fell, but it was so automatic he hardly noticed most of the time. Sanzo hung his scarf and coat up as well, but Goku had already bounded into the house to find Ryuu licking his forepaws.

“Kitty!” He squealed, then crouched down. Ryuu turned to him curiously, and Goku quickly composed himself with a deep breath, then deliberately looked away from Ryuu, towards one of his catnip toys on the ground. Ryuu followed Goku’s sightline, then stalked towards the toy and batted it towards him. Goku pretended not to notice, but flapped the hand nearest the toy, sending it skittering into the kitchen. Ryuu chased it, and Goku watched him run off, smirking to himself. Gojyo gawked from the entryway.

“How’d he do that?”

Gojyo expected a snarky response, something like “takes an animal to know one,” but Sanzo said nothing. Gojyo pivoted to see that he was backed into the corner nearest the door. “Uh, you okay?”

“Where is it?” Sanzo’s eyes narrowed, and Gojyo found himself smirking.

“You mean Hakkai’s kitty? Goku just sent him into the kitchen.”

Sanzo made a strange face, and muttered, “Fine. Maybe it’ll stay in there.” He hurried to the sofa and sat, looking over his shoulder all the while, and Gojyo grinned with all of his teeth.

“Are you scared of the kit-kat?” Sanzo scoffed and put a bag he’d been carrying on the coffee table, but Goku looked up from observing Ryuu.

“You didn’t tell me you were scared of cats!”

“I’m not.” Sanzo pulled a face. “I don’t like them.” Then, he motioned to Gojyo. “Besides, I’m surprised you’re not avoiding it like the plague. Don’t think I haven’t seen your scratches.”

Gojyo sniffed and scratched at the healing wounds on his arm, then flopped onto the chair opposite Sanzo. “It’s a ten-pound half-naked gremlin. What’s to be scared of?”

Sanzo 'hmph'ed and crossed his arm. “I’m not.”

“Yeah, well.” Goku trotted to sit next to Sanzo on the sofa. “He seems nice! Shy, but nice!” Goku put an arm up over the sofa onto Sanzo’s shoulder, and Sanzo gave him a sideways look but settled into it. “So, you brought the mah jongg set?”

“I did.” Sanzo took a wooden box out of the bag, then held it out to Gojyo so he could see. “One of my dads’ sets. They can only play one of them at a time, they won’t notice it missing. You interested in learning a party game?”

“I’m down.” Gojyo shrugged his shoulders back. “Does Hakkai play?”

“He did, when he was closer to my family. Usually he’d play on a team with his sister when he played with my fathers and me.” He opened the box and poured out the tiles. “It’s best played with four, but if you learn, then Hakkai can play on a team with you, Goku can be on my team, and maybe one of us will stand a chance against Koumyou.”

“I think there’s gambling, too!” Goku sat forward on the sofa and pushed some of the tiles back towards the center pile. “Like, money. But they were just playing for scores.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“It is!” Goku grinned. “But it’s fun, and once you learn the rules, it’s sort of a luck and strategy thing.”

“Koumyou and Toudai have been playing likely since before your parents were born, and competitively since I was a teenager.” Sanzo began to mix the tiles around with his hand. “If they invite you two over for dinner, they’ll likely ask you to play after dinner, and they’ll likely whoop your ass, but if I start teaching you now, maybe you’ll save a scrap of dignity.”

“Thanks.” Gojyo rolled his eyes, but sat forward. “Okay, what’s the game?”

Sanzo dealt out the tiles and built up the walls, including an empty fourth slot next to his own. As Sanzo explained, “I’ll play for two so you can see how it works with four.”

“Yeah,” Goku snickered, “And pass yourself the best tiles.”

Sanzo’s cheeks went crimson. “I can demonstrate higher play for you that way.”

“Ohh, so beating two novices is your idea of a good time? Maybe you could beat somethin’ else.” Gojyo made a jerking-off motion as he sat forward, and Goku laughed. Sanzo shot Gojyo a venomous look.

“Do you wanna learn or not?”

Gojyo smirked and picked up the tiles nearest him. “Sure, why not?” He held the tile up. “So, what’s all this mean?”

Sanzo, displaying a surprising amount of patience, reviewed the different tile markings with Gojyo so he could tell the scores, then demonstrated how to build the walls and play a round. Gojyo tried to go with the flow, despite being a little lost, but Goku and Sanzo both peeked around to his tiles a few times to help him along. At the end, he had the fewest points, but he kind of got the game. However, it was when they mixed the tiles again that Gojyo noticed Ryuu’s tail flicking next to Goku.

“He’s back.” Gojyo pointed, and Sanzo inhaled sharply. Goku glanced to his side without turning his head, and nodded.

“He’s sniffin’ my feet. I can feel him.”

Sanzo scooted three feet back from the coffee table, knocking the sofa back when his back his the cushion. “Get it away!”

“He’s all the way down here.” Goku chuckled and pointed straight down under the table. Gojyo felt something brush against his leg and stiffened, as if Ryuu might forget he was there, or maybe just not think not to strike a still target. Ryuu did pass him by, and popped up on the other side of the table where Sanzo had maintained the second spot. He surveyed the table, beady little eyes traveling the tiles, then he reached a paw out and swatted one of the tiles into the discard pile. Then, he grabbed one of the tiles and pulled it closer to the row. Gojyo grabbed his phone and snapped a photo as Ryuu put the tile next to the others and surveyed his work. Sanzo overcame his tension to lean closer, and shook his head.

“The cat just got Riichi.”

“Is that good?” Gojyo typed a message to Hakkai, already grinning. Ryuu chose that moment to knock the entire row of tiles off of the table with one imperious swipe of his paw, then chased one of the tiles off as it skittered towards the entryway. Sanzo grimaced.

“It would have been, yes. Now go find the tiles or Toudai will lose his shit.”

Gojyo laughed and sent his message, then went hunting for the tiles and avoiding Ryuu’s scraping claws as he crawled the floor. The night continued pleasantly, and Gojyo found himself missing Hakkai just a little less.

* * *

Hakkai had never thought he’d tire of the smell of bread, but he was coming to anticipate it. Every lecture was held in the bakery’s work room, and the room reeked of the sweet yeast and starch scent of fresh bread. He knew Gojyo liked the smell of pastry coming off of him, but Hakkai didn’t especially care for the faint scent of fermentation in his skin and hair. Sharak minded less, but she swore she couldn’t sleep smelling like work.

That was why she jumped in the shower first, and he waited, resting on one of the two double beds in their modest little motel with the scent of bread wafting through his nose. Sanzo had emailed him the daily numbers, but though he responsibly reviewed the sales and stock information first, he was much more excited for the messages he had waiting from Gojyo. Sharak emerged from the shower with a contented sigh, her hair and nothing else covered by a towel, just as he went to open them. “It’s yours, if you want it.”

“Mm.” Hakkai averted his eyes as Sharak retrieved a set of clean underwear from her suitcase and dressed. “I’ll shower in the morning, if it’s the same to you.”

“Do as you like.” Sharak tugged a tee on and dropped back onto her bed with a groan. “How do you do this 'awake day, asleep night’ thing?”

“My, my, you’re too used to your schedule, are you?” Hakkai laughed through his nose and sat up. “I tend to sleep early in the evening as it is. Poor Gojyo, he’s usually up a little later, but now that he stays overnights, he’ll sit in bed with me and fiddle on his phone or the like. I think I heard him take a picture of me once.”

“Oh, because you’re cute sleeping?” Sharak smirked, and Hakkai laughed airily.

“Likely it’s because I sleep with my eyes open, and he wanted to verify that he wasn’t dreaming it in the morning.”

Sharak craned her neck around. “Really?”

Hakkai laughed again, a careless “Ahaha,” then winked. “I suppose you’ll find out.” He set his phone down and faced her. “Was Hassan upset or jealous that we’d be sharing a room?”

“Hmph.” Sharak sniffed. “If he was, he kept it to himself. If he doesn’t like the way things are, he knows where the door is. He didn’t say anything to that effect, though, so I think he understands. Besides, you’re not my type.”

“Ahh.” Hakkai didn’t quite understand their relationship himself. Sharak said they were second cousins once removed (if his understanding of the family tree was correct), but he also knew that some didn’t mind consanguinity, especially since he knew Sharak never planned on motherhood. However, Sharak had made clear (laughing at Hakkai when he’d asked) that she had no intention of marrying Hassan, either, though she also had no intention of being with anyone else. It was more like she’d picked him up, imperiously declared 'I want this one,’ and did as she pleased with him. Hassan seemed completely okay with their arrangement, even though Sharak was obviously less than affectionate. “I only ask because I think Gojyo was a bit jealous.”

Sharak snickered. “Oh, is he jealous? He’s got a lot to worry about. After all, you could have your pick of men or women–”

“You know very well I’m nothing like that.” Hakkai folded his arms and shifted on his hipbones, but Sharak clicked her tongue.

“I do, yes, but even knowing doesn’t help some. Aren’t you ever jealous for him? You romantics are all like that.” She smirked to herself, as Hakkai’s face took heat. “He is very handsome.”

“Very much so, yes. And he’s had previous partners, too. How scandalous.” Hakkai kept his affect flat as Sharak twisted all the way around to face him, and he cast a sideways glance her direction. “I met one of his previous partners. Awful sort of man. I have no reason to envy him, or anyone else Gojyo knew before he met me. I don’t think any of them truly appreciated him.”

Sharak raised an eyebrow and turned onto her belly, her chin pillowed on her forearms, kicking her legs behind her. “Truly appreciated? What does that mean?”

“They didn’t see him for his true worth.” Hakkai couldn’t quite look at her as her heels swung back and forth over her spine. “I doubt that Banri fellow knew his caring side. How he strives to cheer me up if I’m low. How determined he can be. He likely never saw past a nice face and body. I’d like to think I have.” He paused and swallowed. “But even then, I wonder.”

“Hmm?” Sharak tented her hands and put her chin on the backs of her palms. “What’s that?”

“Do you think… perhaps I’m missing something? He seems to have something seedy behind him, but he doesn’t talk about it. What if…” Hakkai struggled with the words, then swallowed them and forced a smile in their place. “You shouldn’t worry about it.”

Sharak sat up again. “Kouryuu told me a bit about the last one.”

“Which is why, when I allowed you to play matchmaker, you set me up with men like him.”

This made Sharak pause and scowl. “They were all honorable.”

“I’m certain they were.” Hakkai sighed and rubbed the back of his head. “But anything I tried to do with them was just… rote. Going through the motions. I couldn’t stand it.”

“I know, I know, but listen: nobody can be like that Nii fellow.” Sharak leveled a harsh stare at him. “He’s a horse of a different color entirely. As a friend, I urge you: enjoy what you have. The two of you make a good couple, even if he’s nothing like you.”

“Yes, I know.” Hakkai drew his legs in and fidgeted with the hem of his pajama pants. “He’s so very good; he’s absolutely nothing like me. I admit, it irks me that I still doubt him because he is so good.”

Sharak frowned and leaned in. “Listen.” She skated her fingers across the futon and jumped her palm to pat the bedspread next to Hakkai’s thigh. “You’re unsure. But you’re also young and learning. I know my experiences are different from yours, but trust me when I say honesty and open communication work things out if they’re meant to work out.” She shrugged. “Or help you to know that they aren’t meant to work out.” Hakkai’s face fell. “It’s true. Just keep talking to him, about important things, about silly things, everything. You’ll overcome this if your relationship really is right.”

Hakkai’s phone went off just then, and he checked it. Gojyo had sent a photograph of Ryuu swatting at a familiar set of Mah Jongg tiles with the caption, _“I taught him to play Mah Jongg!”_ He laughed and turned the screen so she could see, and she stifled a giggle.

“Oh stars, what a sweet little fool.”

“He’s something, isn’t he?” Hakkai saved the photograph, then sent a text to Gojyo asking who got the high score, still smiling helplessly.

For every moment of doubt, there was a reassurance. Like the smell of fresh bread on his sleeves every morning, was it perhaps too good to be true, or just too much of a good thing?

* * *

Gojyo wasn’t obnoxious about texting Hakkai, or at least he hoped he wasn’t. 'Good morning,’ 'how’s the day going so far?’ and other things like that, always waiting for a response. Hakkai did respond, even if Gojyo had to wait. It didn’t bother Gojyo, not one bit.

He knew that evenings were the trouble, because he wasn’t used to sitting alone in someone else’s house, especially not with a cat that hated his guts. Ryuu always glared at him with narrowed eyes and ears flattened back against his skull, even taking swipes at him while he was scooping out the litterbox or opening a can of tuna for him. Gojyo made an effort: he tried to do what Goku did and pretended not to be interested in him, offhandedly sending toys his direction or picking up one of the feathered rods and dangling it over his head without looking at him, but it didn’t work. Goku did have more suggestions when he came to visit the next night, or at least one good tool:

“It’s a laser light! I watch cats on YouTube go nuts for these things!” Goku handed the laser pointer to Gojyo. Gojyo pointed the laser first at Ryuu’s feet, then moved it across the floor to the wall. Ryuu’s ears perked, and he swatted the light when it was close, then chased it and jumped up the wall to try to snatch it. Goku made a noise of pure glee, and Gojyo grabbed his phone out.

“Holy shit, holy shit, film it, we gotta show Hakkai!”

Off went the video of Ryuu learning to hunt fairies, but even things that made handling Ryuu easier wouldn’t mean that he wasn’t alone in a quiet room with nothing but himself and the television. After three weeks spending most nights with Hakkai, he realized just how hollow those nights were. Luckily, once Ryuu tired of chasing the laser, Goku had a solution for Gojyo’s boredom:

“Hey, so, I was gonna go over to the inside basketball court at the Y and play some pickup hoops with a few of my college buddies. You know how to play?” He grinned mischievously. “Even if you don’t, we’re not really good, but we’ll teach ya! You wanna come?”

That sounded way better than sitting home alone watching the tube. “Hell yeah!” He shooed Ryuu back and grabbed his keys and coat. “I’ll drive, let’s roll.”

Goku’s friends were all boys around his age, from what Gojyo could tell of the group milling around the brightly-lit inside court. None of them looked at him twice, though a few waved to and hailed Goku as he came in. Goku greeted them in return, but darted over to a scrawny, light-haired boy sitting on the bleachers with a book open in his lap. “Gojyo, this’s Nataku! He’s my roommate!” Nataku didn’t lift his head, even when Goku tweaked his ear. “Nataku, this’s Gojyo, my boss and friend.”

This got Nataku to look up. He took Gojyo in with an impassive expression, then turned to Goku. “You’re sure it’s wise to be friends with your boss?”

“Yeah, he’s nice!” Goku nudged Gojyo’s rib with his elbow and got on tiptoes to wave a hand over Gojyo’s head. “Plus, he’s way tall!” Gojyo rolled his eyes, but let Goku reach for the stars.

“Ah.” Nataku stood and measured himself next to Gojyo. “So he is. He’s on our team.”

Nataku was quiet on the bleachers, rarely spoke above a murmur, but when the teams split into fives and a few relievers, he was ruthless. Gojyo knew just enough about basketball to keep up – he’d played in school. He was nothing next to Nataku. Nataku was swift, he had impeccable aim, he was small and lithe enough to weave in and out of the other players, and his instincts were fantastic. However, when the round was over and he was rotated out, he sat right back down on the bleacher, opened his book, and returned to reading. Gojyo, panting and sweating (and a little embarrassed at scoring only four baskets compared to Nataku’s however-the-fuck-many, he lost count) stumbled to sit near him and Goku, smearing sweat off of his brow.

“You’re way good.”

“Mm.” Nataku didn’t seem to have heard him, engrossed in his book. Goku, dripping sweat down his arms and in dark spots on his tee, nudged Nataku’s leg with the back of his hand.

“Hey, you got another fan.”

This got a smile out of him. Goku twisted back around to Gojyo. “He’s quiet, but he’s super cool. Kinda like the exact opposite of you!”

Gojyo brought his elbow down on Goku’s head. “Watch your ass, kid, I sign your paychecks.”

Nataku chuckled and intoned a sing-song, “Told you,” to Goku, and Gojyo laughed hard.

After a few more rounds, with guys switching in and out as they came and left, Gojyo thought he recognized one of the boys on the bleachers. He was sure of it when he took another break and the guy smiled and waved at him. Goku, who’d followed Gojyo off the court, sparked with recognition. “Oh, hey, don’t I see you at Hakkai’s a lot? Mille-Feuille and Flowers?”

The younger man blinked, and Gojyo caught his gaze flashing over to him. Then, he put on a big, catlike grin. “Oh, I recognize y'all! Aren’t you friends of the owner?”

“Yeah,” Gojyo answered, as memory caught up with him. “Uh, and weren’t you at that restaurant that one time?”

“Golly, I’m surprised you remember that little ol’ shindig!” He laughed, then wiggled his fingers in a coy wave. “Hazel Grouse, if you please.”

Nataku glanced up, eyes narrowed as he took Hazel in. “He’s in the same math class as me. I didn’t invite him, though.”

“Golly,” Goku repeated, grinning, then nudged his elbow into Gojyo’s ribs. “'Zat the fistfight you guys got in?”

“That was once.” Gojyo dropped onto the bench, faintly realizing just how out of breath he was. Hazel was still eying him, and Gojyo remembered a little more: Hakkai had said he was an activist of some sort. Hazel was probably drinking him in for the specimen he was. He studied Hazel for a moment, and decided it wasn’t worth showing off. Kid was scrawny, and that accent would have gotten on his nerves fast. “You’re a regular at Hakkai’s?”

“Best croissants in town. Y'know, I’ve put requests for beignets in that suggestion box o'his so many times, I’m all but certain it all goes right into the circular file!” He winked at Gojyo. “Would you kindly feed that one into his ear? I got a feeling he listens to you.”

Gojyo wanted to be flattered, except Hazel was actually making him a little uneasy. “Sure, I’ll, uh, pass it on.”

“Aw, he can’t. Hakkai’s out of town.” Goku scrunched his nose, his tongue tangling in his mouth. “But what’s a ben… ben-yay?”

“Beignet. It’s a kind of donut.” Hazel brushed Goku’s question off and turned his full attention to Gojyo. “Is he out o’ town?” He raised an eyebrow. “Ain’t that a shame.”

“Well, yeah, but he’ll be back.” Gojyo grabbed his phone out. “Thanks for reminding me. I’m gonna show him what I’m up to.” He twisted around on the bench and took a photo of himself at the court, then sent it to Hakkai with a message saying that Goku took him out to play. Goku snickered as he did so, but Hazel merely sighed.

“I do recall thinkin’ the two of you were a cute little item. It’s nice y'all are still together. When’s he get back?”

“Tuesday night.” Gojyo put his phone away and turned back to Hazel. He couldn’t help but feel like Hazel was looking him over for more than just his ruggedly handsome good looks or muscular back. “So, uh, how do you know Hakkai?”

“Tol'ja, I go to his shop all the time.”

“Jeez.” Goku scrunched his nose. “Hakkai gives me a discount on my coffee and Sanzo keeps comping my muffins and pretending I don’t notice, and I still can’t afford it all the time. Do you work, or is it just the activism stuff?”

“How could I work with a twenty-two credit courseload?” Hazel laughed, flapping a hand, but it was false and hollow, and he looked uncomfortable when he spoke again, not lifting his face. “No, I got a little trust from my daddy and student loans. I only get so much per month, but if I’m careful, I can manage it. 'Sides, I don’t usually get more than a coffee.” Goku scowled and shifted into a sulk, until Nataku nudged his knee.

“C'mon, let’s get back in for another round or two. Playing here’s free.” Nataku put his book down and launched himself off the bleacher, and Goku, throwing one last scowl at Nataku, quickly followed. Gojyo started to do the same, then nodded to Hazel.

“I’ll let Hakkai know his regulars miss him.” He managed what he hoped was a polite, conversational grin, and returned to the game.

Gojyo missed Hakkai too, but running around with the kids, having fun, working up his smoker’s cough, and just doing something with himself made it a lot easier. Hazel’s continued leering did not.

* * *

After a grueling, exhausting day of lectures and practicing kneading techniques, Hakkai had a cup of strong tea with dinner to make certain he’d have the energy to call Gojyo. Sharak made herself scarce, taking Sanzo’s gold card to the hotel bar with the fingers-crossed attitude of “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt me,” and Hakkai settled down next to the window with the phone. Just as he called, he got another text message from Gojyo, with a photograph attached: Ryuu chasing a toy, tail up, and the caption from Gojyo, “We get along much better when he’s moving away from me.”

Hakkai laughed to himself, then dialed Gojyo up. Gojyo had texted him frequently, though not annoyingly so, with little updates about Ryuu and what he was up to. He couldn’t help but delight in the video Goku had sent him of Gojyo playing basketball with some of Goku’s college friends, because though Gojyo had his hands on his knees and was wheezing between plays, he looked like he was having a good time. He wanted to hear more of it from Gojyo himself, that rich, warm voice light years better than images and text on a screen.

Gojyo picked up, answering with that warm affection that Hakkai found himself craving, “Hey, babe, how’s San Fran treating you?”

Hakkai answered with a contented little chuckle. “It’s a lovely city; if only I were here for pleasure. It’s been fine, but I’ve spent most of the trip inside of a bakery.”

“Ah, well.” Hakkai heard a chair creak; Gojyo settling in on his end. “It was a business trip, after all. I’m just sorry you couldn’t do any sightseeing at all.”

“We did a little,” Hakkai admitted. “We took a streetcar tour this afternoon, just seeing some of the famous sights. We actually drove down the curviest road in the world! It was actually a little frightening, winding around and around down the hill hanging off the side of the carriage…”

Gojyo listened contently as Hakkai talked about the little bit of fun he had, and about the seminars, but Hakkai was happy to hear him breathing, the little incidental noises he made, his encouragements to go on, tell him more, tell him everything. “But what about you?” Hakkai sat forward, just as he heard Gojyo hiss and mutter something off of the receiver. “Gojyo?”

“Ah, sorry, I left my feet where Ryuu could get to them.” Gojyo muttered a few swears under his breath. “Damn it, hang on.” Hakkai heard Gojyo put the phone down, then the sink running somewhere away from the phone. Hakkai pursed his lips, shaking his head, until Gojyo returned to the phone with a sigh. “He clawed my ankle. My foot was wiggling, I guess he thought it was one of his toys. Or me.” Gojyo forced a self-deprecating laugh. “He still don’t like me much.”

“I know you’re trying.” Hakkai clicked his tongue. “You sent me all those pictures of you playing with him.”

“Oh, yeah. I throw his little mice around, I dangle his toys, he chased that laser for an hour while I was watching the game. He actually kind of likes Goku now, until he doesn’t, I mean, he sat with Goku for a while and then he scratched him and ran off, and then Sanzo yelled at him, and so the cat shredded his scarf.” Gojyo snickered. “Did you know Sanzo was scared of cats? I think he got over that, now he’s just pissed.”

“Is he, now?” Hakkai laughed. “Considering how I always found his personality rather catlike, perhaps it’s true that if you met someone just like you, you’d dislike them!” Gojyo laughed, thick and rich like the froth off of a mug of cocoa, and Hakkai’s chest flooded with warmth. “But goodness. Tell me about everything else. How was your day?”

Gojyo did. He had found the family-size meal Hakkai had left (hoping Gojyo could keep himself company) and invited Sanzo and Goku over again, and they’d watched a hockey game then played cards. Gojyo briefly mentioned a weird kid who’d been looking him over while he’d been playing basketball the night before: “Like, I get it, I’m hot, and I can appreciate a kid not knowing how to be subtle, but at least try to pretend you’re not staring, right?”

“My, my, perhaps if you’d told him as much, he would have stopped.”

“Guess so.” Gojyo sniffed, sounding unimpressed. “He wasn’t my type anyway. I’m picky about guys. Right now, it’s basically just brunet guys who cook like nobody’s business and talk so sweet I get cavities.” Gojyo chuckled into the receiver in that intimate way of his, and Hakkai flushed.

“I like the sound of your voice too, but really, I can’t wait to see you again.”

“Me neither. What time’s your train get in?”

“Six. Sharak is taking a later train so she can take the starter dough straight to the bakery as quickly as possible, but if you pick me up in a timely manner, perhaps we can get a nice dinner before we go home.” He laughed to himself. “As much as I miss home cooked food, I’ll be exhausted from traveling.”

“Say no more. I’ll be there.” Gojyo heaved a deep, weighty sigh, exuding obvious relief at the very thought. “I miss you way more than I miss your cooking.”

“Oh, Gojyo.” Hakkai cradled the phone.

“I’m serious. Even with the others around, I keep missing the sound of your laugh.” Gojyo paused, gathering himself. “There ain’t nothin’ that makes me happier than just sittin’ near ya.”

Hakkai inhaled, pulling that wistful sensation of desiring someone’s presence in through his lungs and letting it sit, warm in his chest. “I know what you mean precisely.”

“Truth be told, it’s actually makin’ me be sort of okay with your cat, a little. 'Cause I look at him and remember you like him, and that’s why I should like him.” Gojyo paused, and Hakkai could hear him fidgeting a little. “Eh, I’m rambling. Sorry, babe.”

“I don’t mind.” Hakkai glanced to the clock on the table between the beds, and realized that time, too, had rambled on without him noticing. Poor Sharak was likely swimming in ouzo by now, though she likely wouldn’t mind, Sanzo would. “I should apologize; I must go. It’s gotten late, and we’ve got an early morning.”

“Yeah? Yeah, I oughta get ready for bed, too. But I’ll check in with you tomorrow, and I’ll see you tomorrow night.” Gojyo blew a kiss into the phone, and there was a second of hesitation, dead air. “Sleep well.”

“You too.” Hakkai hung up, and heaved one last sigh. He somehow felt no less lonely after the conversation. He wanted to sink back into the ease of their repartee, because he felt so whole there. All he could feel now was Gojyo’s absence and that blank space in his words. He wondered what should have gone there, if maybe that would fill the space. He rose wearily, musing, as he went to fetch Sharak, of what could have filled that space.

If that could have made him feel complete without Gojyo at his side.

* * *

It was a cloudy evening that reeked of frost, and the sky looked far too high. Gojyo didn’t relish a cold, snowy evening. “Just hold over 'til I get Hakkai home,” he muttered as he took in the distant horizon around the trees in Hakkai’s yard, and opened the door.

He was greeted with a hiss and a swipe at his denims. Gojyo hardly had time to swear and jump back before Ryuu skittered off and jumped onto the sofa. “You fucking asshole!” He groaned and shut the door behind him, then rolled his pants up. Luckily, Ryuu hadn’t broken the skin this time, but Gojyo still turned a sour glare at Ryuu. “You make it real hard to like you.”

Ryuu didn’t respond – he was, after all, a cat – but instead narrowed his eyes and raised his hackles, his bony tail swishing left and right over the arm of the sofa. Gojyo huffed his disgust and snatched up one of Ryuu’s little catnip mice and pitched it over to the kitchen. “Fuckin’ jerk-ass cat, I feed you and shit and you still hate me? Little fuckin’ asshole!” Ryuu chased his toy as if he hadn’t heard Gojyo – again, cat, doesn’t speak English – and Gojyo gave up his anger with a groan. No point.

Still, Hakkai would be home soon, and he’d have Hakkai to comfort him after one of Ryuu’s attacks. Gojyo cast an eye around the room, faintly taking in how different it felt without him. Darker, even with the lights on. Was it that the pillows on the sofa weren’t just the way Hakkai kept them? The throw blanket was out of place. The table was dirty, littered with crumbs and streaked with grease. Gojyo faintly realized he’d instinctively thrown his jacket over the chair instead of on the hook Sanzo had pointed out to him. Hakkai probably did all sorts of little things habitually to keep his home so bright and clean, so welcoming. Now Hakkai was going to come in and see a mess. “He’s gone for four days, and this place starts looking more like my goddamn sty.” Gojyo scratched his head. He had time. Might as well try to make the place presentable.

Maybe there was just something indelible, indescribable about having Hakkai in his life. Gojyo couldn’t even place what it was that Hakkai did for him that he so needed. He just knew, now, more than ever, he had to have him there. Gojyo couldn’t help but relive their conversation from last night as he wiped down the table and ran the vacuum around the carpet. Specifically, the end.

“ _I love you._ Sleep well. _”_ He’d been so close to nutting up and just saying it. It was on the tip of his tongue, and it would have come naturally, and it would have been out there. Maybe Hakkai would have said it back. But he’d pussed out and swallowed it, because that thought rushed back to him: what if now’s not the right time? Gojyo couldn’t remember the last time he’d said those words to someone he’d been really in love with, or even if he ever had felt that strongly. Jien, sure, but that was his big brother, of course he loved his family. Hakkai was a different kind of love. That was something special.

He wanted to look into Hakkai’s eyes when he said it. Yeah, that was it. Besides, he thought, as he caught sight of Ryuu tearing across the living room floor to evade the vacuum, he’d left a little reminder of how he felt about Hakkai in the house.

“Hey, cat.” Gojyo turned off the vacuum, as Ryuu peered around the banister and glared at the suddenly-silenced machine. “I helped Hakkai get you because I love him. You know that, right?” His gaze caught on the little tag around Ryuu’s neck, which he’d slipped onto the collar before giving it to Hakkai to put on Ryuu. Hakkai hadn’t looked at it twice, far too enamored of his kitty friend to cease talking to him and flattering him. He wondered if Hakkai would ever notice it and be surprised.

No point in worrying about that now. Right now, all Gojyo could think about was Hakkai, his Hakkai, cuddled up against a train window with a book on his way back to him, about bringing him home and really lighting his life up again. This house wouldn’t feel like home until Hakkai was back in it, and Gojyo was there with him.

The house looked marginally more presentable by the time Gojyo was ready to leave for the train station. Ryuu sat on the stairs as Gojyo grabbed his jacket and went for the door. He turned back to Ryuu one more time. “Right, kit-kat, I’m gonna go get your real dad. Stay here and try not to mess anything up, right?”

He threw the door open and jogged for his car…

and stopped cold.

Because his shitbox Nissan was on the ground and his tires were flat, with huge, jagged gashes piercing through the rubber. Gaping like someone had punched a hole through him and feeling very much the same, he circled his car slowly and found all four tires slashed. His car was was a brick, and someone might as well have hit him in the face with it from ten-thousand feet for all he knew what to do now.

He grabbed his phone out as sense started to come back to him. Hakkai was the important thing here.

Hakkai picked up the phone as Gojyo continued to stare at his worthless tires, tugging at the loose flap of rubber to see through to the smashed bottom. Hakkai’s cheerful tenor sounded so completely alien: “Hello, there! Are you on your way?”

Gojyo struggled for a minute, straining to reconcile that voice with the sight before him, then finally muttered, “Uh. Hey. Uh.” Smooth. “So, this is gonna be a stupid question, but do you have a spare car key?”

Hakkai didn’t respond for a moment, obviously puzzling over why Gojyo might be asking. “Er. Sanzo has it. Is something wrong with your–”

“Someone cut my tires open. All four of them. My car’s dead in the water, babe, I’m–”

“Oh, Gojyo!” Hakkai gasped. “Who would do such a thing?”

“I dunno! Maybe a crazy ex of mine, shit, but it’s been years since I saw someone else regular, how would they know I was here?” Gojyo groaned and finally sank from a crouch to his backside. Hakkai didn’t say anything for a second. “I dunno. I’m just – shit, I wanted to–”

“Gojyo, Gojyo, calm down. Call the police, then call a tow truck. Get your car to a shop and make a report. I’ll call Sanzo for a ride home.” Gojyo couldn’t fathom how Hakkai could clear his head that quickly, even though he still sounded distressed. Gojyo felt his shock starting to break down into a nasty mix of anger and self-loathing. Anger this had happened, and that he couldn’t do anything to fix it. He’d failed, and it wasn’t even his fault.

“I… I guess…” He folded his arms tight around himself, sinking down onto his ankles and pulling his knees in. “Ha… Hakkai? Could you stay on the line with me a little?”

Hakkai’s answer was wrought and tense: “No, you need to call the police, and now. I have to let you off the line, and I have to call Sanzo.” Gojyo gripped the phone tight, not wanting to let go. Snow started to drift down around him, catching in his hair and melting on his jacket, but Gojyo was only faintly aware of Hakkai’s voice, ever more distant in the quiet. “I’ll see you soon, okay? Don’t panic. Call the police.”

“Yeah,” Gojyo rasped. “See you soon.” Hakkai hung up, and Gojyo lifted himself to his feet and dragged himself back to Hakkai’s door. He was cold, and the snow was starting to get his hair wet. He slowly dialed the emergency number, waiting while it rang, and sank to sit inside the front door, still staring at his car.

“Hello? 911? I’d, uh, like to report a crime. Someone slashed the tires on my car.” He cringed – the more he repeated it, the more it sucked. He’d have to pay for the tow – he had a tow truck, but usually if someone needed emergency service they were calling him, and he had no way of getting to his damn truck right now. If Gat was there, maybe he could come, but that was a coin toss right now. He could do the tires himself, but he’d still have to pay for them. This was gonna be a massive hit to his wallet, and that was just further injury on top of the gaping wound of failing Hakkai.

The operator asked him to stay on the line, and Gojyo groaned and let his face fall. He felt bitterly cold, and the darkness that sat in this lonely little home crept behind him. Then, there was a noise behind him, and Gojyo felt Ryuu pawing at his jacket. “Not now, cat,” he muttered, but Ryuu slunk up under his arm and tipped his head back and looked up at him. Gojyo didn’t have the energy to glare and shoo him off, but Ryuu wasn’t trying to claw his face this time. Instead, Ryuu rubbed the back of his head against Gojyo’s elbow, emitting a curious noise, a trill that he only made when Hakkai was rubbing his little mohawk. That was a _nice_ noise. Ryuu wound around his arm a few times, petting himself against Gojyo’s arm, then crept up into his lap and settled there: kneading his paws on Gojyo’s thigh, but his claws were firmly tucked in. Gojyo wasn’t sure what else to do but to keep his phone at his ear with one hand and gently stroke Ryuu’s back with the other.

The cat was trying to make him feel better. There was no other explanation, but Gojyo didn’t want an explanation. He wanted Hakkai to wrap an arm around his shoulder and tell him things were alright. If this was the best he was going to get, then he’d take it.

* * *

Hakkai stepped off the train onto the snow-covered platform, duffel held tight to his side and his phone at his ear. “I’m sorry about this. I honestly can’t believe this is happening either.”

“Whatever, it can’t be helped. I’ll be there in twenty.” Sanzo grunted, and Hakkai heard the rustle of his clothes as he tugged his jacket on. “You said he thought it was one of his exes?”

“I’ve only met the one, and he’s certainly the kind of person who’d do that, but he said he didn’t know.” Hakkai sighed and stepped down, shaking his head. “I don’t know how much the police can do, but he should at least make a report.”

“Yeah, he ought'a. Fine. I’ll be there soon.” Sanzo hung up, and Hakkai put his phone down and looked out at the street with another sigh. The snow was coming down harder and harder now, which Hakkai knew was befouling his mood. He was sure he wasn’t alone in it, either. Poor Gojyo, he’d sounded so desperate. He tried to dial Gojyo back, but the line was busy. Hopefully he was making a police report, and they’d find fingerprints or something on the vehicle and tie this back to that awful Banri fellow. Jealous of Gojyo’s happiness, perhaps, or just wanting him unhappy. Gojyo didn’t deserve that. Hakkai tried to think of something he could do to lift Gojyo’s mood, but the gray weather dampened his mind as much as his own mood.

At least he’d have time to figure something out while he waited. He tried to remember Koumyou’s little tips and tricks for centering himself, breathing deep and slow, closing his eyes tight. Just for a moment, just to find white space in his mind, and yet…

“Oh, Hakkai. Fancy meeting you here.”

Darkness encroached. Nii was at the bottom of the steps, a bag in hand, his hair damp with flecks of snow, and a serene smile on. Hakkai tensed up, but Nii stepped up towards him. “It’s almost like Fate keeps us passing back and forth in front of each other.”

“Why are you here?” Hakkai’s eyes narrowed to slits, and he balled his fists tight at his sides. Nii chuckled as he ascended the stairs and stopped close to him, too close.

“I’m visiting a friend out of town. Funny, that we just happened to cross paths coming and going.” Nii wiggled an eyebrow, then leaned inquisitively towards Hakkai. “What are you doing here?”

“Leaving.” Hakkai broke eye contact and crossed his arms tight, squeezing his duffel in his arms and digging his heels into the snow. Nii hummed and pointedly looked around.

“Getting a ride? I don’t see that cute little car of yours.” Hakkai didn’t answer him. Nii hummed again and stood elbow to elbow with him. “Your new boyfriend, maybe? What was his name – Joe?”

“I have nothing to say to you.” Hakkai tried to bite it back. Nii studied his face, and finally shook his head.

“I’ve tried, y'know. I really have. I’ve given you your space and I’ve been nothing but nice to you since you broke it off with me.”

Hakkai tried to bite back a retort, but failed: “You’re good at pretending to be nice. But you’re not.”

Nii laughed. “You used to like that I wasn’t especially nice. And you’re wrong. I don’t bother pretending when it’s important enough.” He slid a smirk towards Hakkai. “I was exactly as nice as you wanted me to be.”

“And that was fine then, but I found the flaws in that, and now I can’t stand the thought of you. I’ve made clear, I want you to leave me alone.”

“Hmm.” Nii continued to study Hakkai, not moving even a step further, as Hakkai tried harder to draw away. He debated calling the police in his mind, but what could they do? Even if he ran, where could he go that Nii wouldn’t follow? Nii clearly had no interest in doing as he wished, not today. “Why don’t you want to at least talk to me? I feel like you ended things so roughly, there wasn’t closure. Do you ever wonder if maybe we could have weathered that storm?”

“No. I don’t.” Hakkai kept his words clipped, staccato. He thought of Kanan, her smile, and the reason he would never see it again.

“Look at me.” Nii ran his fingers down Hakkai’s wrist. Hakkai jerked his hand away and refused to turn his head, focusing on the snow where it gathered on the empty bench. “Are you really happy with someone who just matches you, who never challenges you?”

“You know nothing about what makes me happy.”

“I think our three years together proves otherwise.” Nii pursed his lips, his smirk sinking away, and he slid his hand up to cup Hakkai’s palm. “Hakkai, I want you to remember that I did everything I did in our relationship because I thought it would be best for you. I thought it was what you wanted. I’m sorry you weren’t happy.” Hakkai felt an ache run through him, as Nii disengaged and stepped back. “I’ve got a train to catch, but I can try to delay it if you’d like me to give you a ride home, and get you out of this cold.”

“No. I’m fine. Goodbye.” Hakkai kept his face low, and Nii shrugged.

“Suit yourself. It’s been nice talking.” Hakkai didn’t turn and watch as Nii sauntered up the steps towards the platform, the snowflakes sitting on his shoulders flurrying off of him in his wake. If he had, he might have caught Nii turning back, giving him one more long once-over, then continuing on his way. Hakkai tried to close his eyes to the darkening afternoon, the overcast gray sky being swallowed by murky night, tried to find his white space.

Instead, he could only think of Kanan on his right side, and Nii on his left.

“Nii?” Hakkai turned in place to look for him, but he was already gone. Instead, there was just Sanzo’s little white sedan waiting for him, his headlights shining bright against his chest, and Hakkai had to try to forget that pang of nostalgia that threatened to erupt through the walls he’d built around what he’d had with Nii.

Instead, there was Sanzo, and the promise of getting home, and trying to forget that there was ever something there. It was easier to forget there was something before Gojyo when there was Gojyo to fill that empty space.


	28. Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, it helps to talk things out. Sometimes, it doesn’t.

**28: Conversations**

Hazel could hear his phone ringing as he crossed the quad towards his next class. He answered the moment he saw the number. “G'mornin’! Sorry I missed ya this mornin’, you with your night job and my early classes an’ all–”

“Hazel.” Gat sounded serious… but then, he always sounded serious. “Did you do this?”

“Do what?” Hazel stopped walking, frowning. He could hear the sounds of the garage behind him, and then a soft grumble from Gat.

“Someone destroyed my employer’s tires.” Hazel felt a sting of guilt run through him, as all the implications in that statement fell onto him. “I want to know if this was you.”

“Gat, I would never, and you’re an idjit for askin’.” Hazel grounded his heels. “I told the Prof when Hakkai would be gettin’ back from his trip, and that’s it.” He crossed his arms. “What d'ya think I am?”

Gat was quiet for a moment, as Hazel shivered even in his winter coat. After a long moment of silence, Gat said, “I wanted to make sure.”

“An’ now ya have. Happy?” Hazel shuffled his feet like an impatient horse. “Look, I’m told he’s not such a good guy. I’m bettin’ it was someone he’s messed with, ya ever think of that?”

“I just wanted to be sure. See you tonight.” The line clicked dead, and Hazel sucked air in through his nose and shoved his phone away, then marched off towards his next class.

Why should he worry about what happened to a lowlife like Sha Gojyo? From what he’d been told, the man had a bad past, and he already had enough on his plate with the Prof on his back and his own troubles to get all wrought up over one jerk’s bad luck.

“Likely had it comin’.” Hazel pushed it from his mind and walked on.

* * *

Goku had been able to get away from the garage to the bakery, and beckoned Sanzo to look at the photos of Gojyo’s car on his cell phone. Sanzo could only raise his brow with surprise. “Someone fucked his car.”

“Like a bride on her wedding night.” Goku scrunched his face up. “Except in a really bad way. Gojyo was cussin’ up a storm the whole time he was replacin’ ‘em.”

“Sucks.” Sanzo glanced over his shoulder towards the kitchen. “And he’s been sour all morning.”

Sanzo chose not to mention that Hakkai had been quiet the night before too, even his habitual, meaningless smile absent. Hakkai had confided in him that Gojyo had never come home, but had sent an apologetic text at around five that he had been stuck at the shop until nearly midnight with the police and hadn’t wanted to wake Hakkai when he got home. He had apologized, but though Hakkai had called him back, Gojyo hadn’t picked up. Hakkai had quietly sulked around the kitchen since, doing his tasks in silence. It was unfortunate, but Sanzo already knew:

“Nothing we can do about it.” Sanzo passed Goku’s phone back to him. “Once Gojyo gets over himself and talks to Hakkai, they’ll be fine. Shit happens.”

“Mm.” Goku pulled another sour face and put his phone away, then took his coffee off the table. “It was sort of a sudden shock. After somethin’ like that, anyone would need time to recover.” He bit his lip, then glanced up to Sanzo. “Ah, were you doin’ anythin’ on Saturday?”

“I work. Why?”

“Well, Mama an’ Nataku an’ me were goin’ to Sacramento, so I… it’s okay, you gotta work.”

Sanzo leveled Goku with a hard stare. “I’m the manager, I set my own schedule. My schedule has suddenly changed.”

“Ah, Sanzo.” Hakkai had poked his head out of the kitchen. “Perhaps you should consult me first?” He forced a smile for Goku. “Good morning.”

“Mornin’!” Goku hailed him, grinning, then remembered something: “Hey, Hakkai, what’s a beignet?”

“It’s French for donut.” Hakkai dusted his hands off as he approached, already frowning again. “Colloquially, however, it’s a deep-fried choux pastry – choux being the dough I use for cream puffs – very popular in New Orleans.”

“Ohh, okay. Those do sound really tasty.” Goku nodded his understanding as Sanzo raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you have them?”

“We don’t have a deep fryer in our kitchen.” Hakkai pursed his lips. “Though it has sprung up in the suggestion box.”

 Goku nodded again. “Yeah, someone from my college said he comes here a lot, he was tellin’ Gojyo to ask you about 'em.”

“Hmm.” Hakkai’s displeasure seemed to deepen, but he seemed to be thinking about something. “How is Gojyo?”

“Pissed.” Goku folded his arms. “I don’t think he’s mad at you, he’s just mad.” Then, he held his phone out with the photos for Hakkai to see. “You’d be mad too, right?”

Hakkai stepped closer and adjusted his glasses, and the smile he was putting on fell off. “Oh, that is dreadful. If…” He took the phone in his hand, and his expression went strange, clouded and cold. “If he would just talk to me, I’d comfort him, but…”

The door swung open, and a deliveryman entered with a cardboard box in hand and approached Hakkai. “I have a delivery for the owner, Mr. Cho?”

Hakkai frowned as he handed Goku’s phone back, then dusted the flour from his hands. “That’s me. Can I help you?”

The deliveryman put the box on the counter and held out a clipboard. “Just a signature.”

“I didn’t order anything.” Hakkai signed nonetheless, but the deliveryman shrugged and smiled.

“It was ordered by a Gojyo Sha, rush delivery.”

“Oh.” Hakkai’s brow lifted, and as the deliveryman left, he carefully pulled the tabs off of the box and opened it to reveal a bouquet of sliced fruit on skewers in a plain vase, some dipped in chocolate, and a few marshmallows. Hakkai moved aside a cold pack to find a note on the side:

“ _Sorry I didn’t come home last night and that I missed you at the station. I’m happy you’re home safe. I’ll be getting home a little late tonight. I can’t wait to see you. Yours, Gojyo.”_

“He’s trying to make it up to me.” Hakkai shook his head. “He didn’t do anything wrong.” He was still smiling, though to Goku, he still looked sad. However, he turned to Goku. “He says he’ll be late, do you know why?”

Goku shrugged. “Call him. Maybe he’ll actually pick up now.”

Hakkai nodded, but picked up the vase. “I’ll share it with the rest of the kitchen, but I must thank him. Sanzo, what’s this about Saturday?”

“I’m going with Goku on a road trip with his friend and foster mother.” Sanzo crossed his arms. “I’ll be available by phone.”

Hakkai’s brow knit up. “Ah, well. I’ll check the schedule. I’m sure it’ll be okay.” He quirked his brow for one more weary little smile, then left with his fruit. Goku whirled around to Sanzo, pumping his fists in front of his chest.

“But you’re gonna come?”

Sanzo cracked a smile and planted his head on Goku’s head, then ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah. I said I was, didn’t I?”

Goku beamed, enjoying the contact. “You’re the best!” Sanzo snorted, then shrugged.

“You just gotta learn to listen to me.”

Meanwhile, Hakkai left the fruit bouquet in the kitchen refrigerator with a note that it was for sharing, and stepped out behind the shop to call Gojyo. This time, Gojyo did pick up, and Hakkai could hear the subtle mischief in his voice. “Hey there, babe. You got it?”

“I did.” Hakkai smiled helplessly. “The thought was terribly sweet, but you didn’t have to. Thank you.”

“Hey. That’s why it’s important I did it. I should do nice stuff for ya without havin’ to.” Gojyo made an odd noise, and Hakkai heard the clang of metal on metal – Gojyo still hard at work. “Especially after I mess up.”

“You didn’t, Gojyo–”

“I feel like I did.” Gojyo heaved a sigh. “But thanks for not being upset.”

“No, of course not.” Hakkai leaned against the back door, his spine tense. “But I did want to ask, why are you going to be late?”

Hakkai didn’t hear a response, just the grinding noise of a wrench working at a bolt, then another sigh. “Uh, I was gonna go, uh, visit Mr. Koumyou.”

“Oh! Oh, Gojyo, don’t sound so embarrassed. That’s fine. Were you going directly from work?”

“Y… yeah.” Gojyo still sounded anxious, and Hakkai smiled to himself and shook his head.

“I’ll take my time on dinner. It’ll be ready when you get in.” He put a little firmness in his tone: “This is important. I want you to have a safe place to…” He struggled to think of something that wouldn’t patronize. “To talk things out. With someone who’s an expert about it. You can, of course, talk to me, but all I can do is comfort you.”

“I like that plenty.” Gojyo chuckled, then settled. The sound of creaking metal faded. “But, what you said about coping, and stuff. I, uh, I didn’t handle this too good. So, I figure I’ll talk to the guy. Maybe it’ll help.”

“I believe in you. I’ll see you tonight.”

“You got it.” Gojyo sounded relieved as he hung up, and Hakkai felt it.

Gojyo, actually seeking to work on the things that were holding him back. If the Gojyo that came home to him tonight wasn’t the despondent one he’d spoken to the night before, it would be progress. He wanted to see that earnest smile again. It would help him forget about the sly man who’d invaded his life from his memory, who still lingered no matter how he tried to forget.

* * *

Koumyou’s house was dark and a little – what’s the word? – foreboding (that was the one). It was nestled back from the street a little, and the dark brick and windows made him think of an old haunted house. Still, Gojyo ventured to the front door and rang the bell. There was a chime from within, and a speaker near the door crackled, then emitted Koumyou’s voice:

“Is that you, Gojyo? You’re right on time.”

“Yeah, I made it.” Gojyo slicked the loose bits of his hair back behind his ear, not quite able to keep it in place. Koumyou giggled.

“I’ll be down to let you in, just a moment.”

The speaker went silent, and Gojyo shivered in the breeze that passed through the barren shrubs in front of the yard as he waited. After a minute, Koumyou opened the door and gestured for Gojyo to pass him. “Out of the cold, now, come in! We’ll be talking up in my study.” Koumyou beckoned him with a thin hand. “Pass me your jacket; we have a rack.” Gojyo shrugged his jacket off of his shoulders and cast his gaze around the room, perusing the curious collection of old-looking furniture and art, some partially covered with canvases, a gleaming gold frame visible here, a velvet-backed chair there. Koumyou hung his jacket on a free-standing coat hook, a branching bronze ornament. Gojyo found the collection simultaneously weird and cool. Kind of like Koumyou himself. “Right this way, if you will.” Koumyou started up the stairs, waving Gojyo on behind him. As Gojyo passed the kitchen, he caught sight of Sanzo and Toudai sitting at the table together with newspapers, and caught a snippet of their conversation:

“Did you get the clue for 39-Down yet?” Toudai leaned towards Sanzo’s paper, but Sanzo shook his head.

“Still on the Sudoku.”

Toudai scoffed. “You’ll never get it; I couldn’t.”

Sanzo smirked, and Gojyo only faintly heard him as he reached the second landing, saying, “I take that as a challenge, old man.”

Koumyou stopped on the second landing and held the door to what appeared to be a den, with a plush leather sofa positioned in front of a television. However, there was a desk tucked into the corner, and Koumyou pulled a high-backed chair in front of the sofa. “Come, sit. I’d like you to be comfortable.” Gojyo took the offered chair, and Koumyou shut the door. “We won’t be interrupted, and anything said in this room stays in this room.”

“Okay.” Gojyo swallowed and put his hands between his knees. “Uh, thanks for agreein’ to see me on such short notice. Have you had a lot of takers yet?”

“A few,” Koumyou demurred with a small smile, “But like I said, I won’t discuss specifics of the other people I’m talking to.” He picked up a clipboard and sat on the sofa, then took up his pen. “May I ask what prompted you to call me?”

Gojyo chewed his lip. He could already feel his instinct to laugh the personal stuff off, but that would defeat the purpose of coming here. “Uh. You, uh, said you won’t tell nobody what I talk about?”

“Who would I tell?” Koumyou flapped a hand. “If I wish to consult another professional, I’ll get your express written permission first. I’ve taken an oath to respect your wishes and needs above all else. It’s just like your implicit promise to your customers that you will care for their car as is best appropriate and price your services fairly.”

Gojyo swallowed. “Okay. Makes sense.” He lowered his head and laced his fingers. Be honest, he told himself. The guy can’t help you if you don’t tell him the truth. “Uh. So, I decided to call because I had somethin’ bad happen last night, and I didn’t know how to deal.”

Koumyou put a hand to his mouth. “May I ask what happened?”

“Got my tires slashed, and 'cause of that, Hakkai had to call Sanzo for a ride. It was like a punch to the face, y'know?” Gojyo sucked in a breath. “I failed Hakkai and had to drop four-hundred on new tires. Hakkai told me, when I started feelin’ my head go to a dark place, to call him, but he made me hang up so I could call the cops, and then I didn’t get to go home to him. It sucked. I didn’t realize my head could get that dark until I got there.” Gojyo rubbed the back of his head, keenly sensing Koumyou study him despite his mild expression.

“You felt as if you failed.” Koumyou made a note. “And when Hakkai had to let you call the police, how did you feel?”

Gojyo cringed, but he didn’t have to search his feelings too hard. “Alone.”

“Alone,” Koumyou repeated. “Are you often alone?”

“I mean, I used to be.” Gojyo let his focus trail around the room, the maroon walls, the knick-knacks on the shelf, everywhere but Koumyou. “I live by myself. Have for a year. Actually, being alone at home kinda got weird, always too quiet, and now, I’ve started hating it.”

“I see.” Koumyou made another note on the page. “You have a brother, correct? Forgive me for presuming; Kouryuu mentioned it.”

“It’s okay; yeah. Me an’ him actually talk sometimes lately, but I moved out after we had kind of a falling out.” Gojyo grinned. “But, uh, after I got sick back around Christmas, I kinda got over it, 'cause he loves me, y'know? I was actually super happy he came to take care of me. It reminded me of when I was a kid.”

“He took care of you when you were younger, then? How much older is he?”

“Six years.” Gojyo squeezed his hands again, then shifted his elbows up to the arms of the chair. He just couldn’t get comfortable. “Uh, yeah. He sorta looked after me – look, maybe I ought'n’t dance around it.” He crossed his arms tight. “Look, my mom? Our mom? Was my stepmom. My dad cheated on her with my mom, then he fucked off, then my mom died, and I ended up with her because nobody else wanted me. She only wanted me so she could beat the shit out of me whenever she found a good enough excuse, like, I took a piece of fruit off the counter that she didn’t say I could have, or it was Tuesday and that was a plenty good day to beat the shit out of Gojyo.” Gojyo huffed sharply. “She hated me 'cause I was the reason my dad left, and I looked like the woman he left her for. Jien protected me from Mom as much as he could.” He found himself smiling wryly. “Ain’t that it? You wanna hear about my mom. That’s what therapists do.”

“Hmm.” Koumyou made a few more notes. “It is, in a way. I’m trying to get an understanding of you. Is that a problem?”

Gojyo wasn’t sure what to make of that, but after a second, he shook his head. “No, no, it’s why I’m here. I know a lot of the shit that’s fucked in my head is 'cause of her.” He paused. “Uh, is it cool if I cuss? Like, a lot?”

“My dear boy, where do you think Kouryuu learned it?” Koumyou laughed into a cupped palm. “There’s a reason I’m not allowed to drive anymore; apparently I hurt the ears of my passengers. Speak your mind. I feel that, in my line of work, swearing is a sign of candor. You’re not holding back, and I appreciate that.” Koumyou crossed one leg over the other and leaned in. “You said you had a falling out with your brother. What was it regarding?”

“My business. I opened with a partner, and Jien didn’t think I should do it.” Gojyo drummed his fingers on the arms of the chair, scowling at his knees. “He was setting my business up so that it would be his. When I found out, I laid loose on him. Brought up some shit from our childhood, and got a black eye in return.”

“My, my, I see. Had your brother ever hit you before?”

“No.” Gojyo realized he’d never thought of it that way, and slumped in the chair. “Fuck.”

“May I ask what it was you brought up?”

Gojyo had to pause at this. “I…” His stomach pinched. “Uh… he, uh… I dunno. I mean, she was his mom…” Gojyo swallowed hard. “Of course he loved her, right? But… I guess I felt like… the fact that he loved her, and would hug her and kiss her and let her hug him and kiss him, even after she’d just beat me with her fist or whatever, and then he’d patch me up, that just sucked.”

Koumyou nodded, making a few notes. “If you’re not ready to discuss that, I understand. Do you want to try and put a label on that feeling?”

Gojyo frowned, sinking deeper into the back of the chair. “I dunno. I guess… betrayed.” He mulled it over, feeling the word roll around in his mouth. “I think that works.”

“I see. Would you consider what your brother did with your business a betrayal, also?”

Gojyo inhaled sharply. That made too much sense. “Yeah. Definitely.”

“And you moved out after that.” Koumyou made a few more notes. “Correct?”

“Mhm.” Gojyo wondered how pathetic he sounded. Unwanted by his mom, betrayed by his brother. What a fucking sob story. “But it wasn’t so bad. Me an’ Banri did alright for a while.”

“Banri? A friend?”

“Friend, sometimes with benefits. But he screwed me, too. I mean, like, both in the actual fucking way, but also in the double-crossed me way. Betrayed.” Gojyo found himself half-smirking, half-scowling at the doorknob as he repeated it, bitterness sitting on his tongue. “Kind of a pattern, innit?” He shifted again, then went on, “We met when I was in foster care, 'cause he was there too. I got pulled from the house after Jien called CPS on Mom. He never told me what happened to his folks. He was a few years older, and me an’ him got into trouble. Mostly, he got me into trouble.” He heaved a sigh and laced his fingers over his eyes, pressing his index fingers into his forehead. “I… I can’t go into all of it.” Koumyou didn’t react, so Gojyo went on: “But he opened the business with me, then robbed me and vanished, just like Jien thought he would.”

“He involved you with criminal enterprise?”

Gojyo put steel in his voice: “I don’t wanna talk about it.” Koumyou tapped the edge of his clipboard with the end of his pen, and Gojyo swallowed hard. “I… I don’t like thinkin’ about it. I ain’t even told… Fuck, what else do you wanna know?”

“What would you like to tell me?”

“I dunno!” Gojyo groaned. “You’re the professional.”

“Hmm.” Koumyou smiled to himself and flipped back through his notes – shit, when had he written so much? “You’ve given me a great deal to consider, that we will need to consider. But what would you like to focus on?“

"I dunno,” Gojyo repeated, tensing. He could feel his joints tightening to his frame, his shoulders and legs locking.

“Did you want to discuss your stepmother?”

“No. Shit, I try not to think about her, she just fucking lives in my brain.” Gojyo groaned. “How do I get her out?”

Koumyou tapped the edge of his clipboard with his pen. “What of your struggles with this bad friend of yours? Or your difficulty reconciling your brother’s love with your abused youth? Do you think talking about your demons might help you exorcise them? Or would you rather learn to better ignore them? What is it you want?”

“I don’t know!” Gojyo felt everything that had gotten tight in him snap, and he slammed his fists on the arms of the chair. “I just want to not feel like this! To not walk through a fucking minefield every time shit gets complicated, to keep my cool, I don’t wanna feel this way!” He clenched his fists tight, unable to look at Koumyou. “Just tell me how to fix me! Why’re you asking me all these questions?!”

Koumyou seemed briefly taken aback, the first change in his demeanor since the session had begun. Then, he put on a mild smile, uncrossed his legs, leaned towards Gojyo and set his pen down. “I ask questions so that I can understand. I need to understand you so I can understand your problem. My philosophy is that your answers are already inside of you, we simply need to work them out of you. I ask questions to help you find the path through your tangled thoughts. I want to guide you to that path, but I can’t carry you. This path is yours.” He slid a hand towards Gojyo. “Do you understand?”

Gojyo’s lip ached from biting, and his palms ached from clenching his hands. “I guess.” He slid his hands back down between his knees. "You think I already know what to do?”

“In a way, yes. It’s simply a matter of working out what that is. But then,” Koumyou smiled, taking his pen back into hand. “I’m the one asking questions here, am I not?” He eased back. “I want to help you identify some of the crossed wires. So, let me repeat a question from earlier. I want you to name, specifically, the emotion you felt when Hakkai told you he could not stay on the telephone with you last night. What do you call that?”

Gojyo hung his head, and repeated the answer. “Alone. I felt alone.” He paused as more fell into place. “I felt like he was leavin’ me.”

Koumyou tapped his pen to his lip. “Can you tell me about other times in your life when you’ve felt a similar emotion?”

Gojyo didn’t want to think about it, but he had to, he knew he had to if he was going to work through this. He closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, then exhaled. “I guess… when Banri ran off with my cash. I remember standin’ there in shock when I realized what he’d done, not knowin’ what to do with myself. And I guess when Jien took me to the police and left me with 'em. All I wanted was for him to come back.” His fingers were shaking now. “I guess… I guess… after my mom…”

Something whited out in his mind. He drew a blank, then shook his head. “I guess there’s other times. But that’s what I can remember.”

Koumyou had made notes, then looked over the pages, nodding. “I see.”

Gojyo realized he’d just equated something Hakkai had done with what Banri and Jien had done, and slid to the end of his seat. “Look, Hakkai didn’t mean it. It was the right thing for him to do, I’m the idiot for getting all butthurt about it!”

“Ah. No.” Koumyou held Gojyo’s gaze. “No, your feelings are valid. Whether or not the person who caused you harm had a reason to do so, or whether they intended to cause you harm, are irrelevant. These are emotions you have. Whether they are right or wrong is not the question. The question is how you intend to work through them. Rationalizing your emotions against the other person’s intentions may help, to an extent, but first, it’s best to acknowledge the emotion you’re having and why you are having it.”

Gojyo sucked his lip in again, hunching over in the chair and twiddling his fingers. “What am I supposed to do? Ask for an apology?”

“Again, no. The actions others take are theirs, done for their reasons. Even if someone wronged you, either accidentally, unintentionally, or with malice in their hearts, you may never receive an apology and you should not expect one. What you can do is reconcile your hurt feelings, accept that feeling, and learn to move on.” Koumyou studied him, his gaze benign. “If you ask Hakkai for an apology, he will certainly give it.”

“No.” Gojyo knew that wasn’t what he was looking for. “No, I… I just don’t wanna feel like every time I’m by myself now, it’s 'cause someone’s left me there. He wouldn’t do that to me.”

“Ah.” Koumyou made one more note, then put his clipboard down. “I think we’ve learned a lot today. Would you mind if I gave you a little task to handle between now and our next meeting?”

“What do you want?”

“The exercise when I ask you to name the emotion you are feeling or something have felt? I want you to practice it this week. Not that I think you struggle to emote or to recognize emotions, but you seem the type of person to ignore your emotions when they become difficult to deal with.” Koumyou raised his hands like a scale. “I imagine you say things like, 'That’s fine,’ or 'It’s okay’ when something upsets you, to force yourself to ignore the negatives, but you must acknowledge your feelings if you are to address them appropriately. I want you to self-assess, 'How does this make me feel? How does that make me feel?’ I think it will help you to categorize how you should react to and handle some of the things you struggle with. Do you understand?”

“Yeah.” Gojyo nodded and stood, but as he did, he found his head aching. “Right now, it’s just tired.”

Koumyou hummed. “Yes, I was worried about that. It can be exhausting, bearing that burden.” He then patted him on the back. “We’re going to help you lighten that load.”

“Okay.” Gojyo set his shoulders back. “Sounds like a plan.”

Gojyo put on a big grin for Toudai as he passed by him in the kitchen again, wiggled his fingers at Sanzo with a suggestive grin (receiving a middle finger salute in return), and kept his back straight until he got to the front door again. It was only when he was halfway to his car that he realized Koumyou hadn’t asked him for money. He thought for a moment about turning around and offering – what, did Koumyou think he couldn’t afford it? – then thought better of it.

He already felt like Koumyou, with his long, delicate fingers and coy, sly smile, had wrung him out once tonight.

* * *

Hakkai’s front door was unlocked, but when Gojyo pushed it open, he was greeted with a tight embrace before he even saw Hakkai coming.

“I heard your car and assumed – goodness, this would be embarrassing if anyone else had come in.” Hakkai tucked his chin into the crook of Gojyo’s shoulder, and Gojyo curled his arms around his back to hold him tight. Somewhere, it registered that this was the first time he’d seen Hakkai in five days. Hakkai was squeezing as if he thought he’d vanish if he let go, and Gojyo leaned into the touch.

He didn’t have to think hard to name the feeling: _happy. So happy._

“I missed you so much.” He kissed Hakkai a few times on the cheek, eliciting a soft laugh, and Hakkai finally took a step back to look at his face, his pupils bright and dancing with delight in the center of drowning-deep irises. “I’m real sorry about last night–”

“Don’t be. I’m sorry it happened, and sorry I couldn’t help you more.” Hakkai ran his fingers down the line of his jaw, then kissed him on the mouth and whispered into his lips, “How are you feeling?”

“Tired. Tired and really happy to see you.” Gojyo let Hakkai lead him from the doorway, let him take his jacket off and hang it up. Only once he had gotten all the way in did he think to look around for the cat. “Where’s–”

“I put Ryuu in the spare bedroom for the time being. I’ve fed him already, and he has water and a litter box, so he’ll be fine. I thought I’d spare you the scratches, at least for a little while.” Hakkai smiled wryly as Gojyo followed him in. “Ah, I thought you’d be longer, so dinner will be a few more minutes.” Hakkai gestured to the sofa. “Why don’t you sit? I’d love for you to tell me all about your day.”

_Happy and wanted here,_ Gojyo thought. “That sounds awesome.” He crashed onto the sofa, sprawling across both cushions, and when Hakkai circled around, he folded his hands under his head and smirked up at Hakkai as if daring him to object, knowing he’d move if Hakkai went to another seat. However, Hakkai scooped a hand under the top of his back, lifted him, and seated himself so that Gojyo’s head and shoulders sat on his thighs. Hakkai smiled sweetly down at Gojyo and kissed him on the forehead, then tangled his fingers into Gojyo’s hair.

“Tell me everything, anything you want to tell me. Take your time; I won’t move unless you tell me to or I have to.”

_Tired, happy, wanted, and maybe even loved a little._ Gojyo closed his eyes and soaked up the sensation of Hakkai stroking his hair. “Well, I spent the morning pretty pissed off, but I’m honestly havin’ trouble rememberin’ what that felt like right now…”

He didn’t tell Hakkai about the details of his therapy, but he talked for as long as Hakkai would let him, basking in the positive attention and affection that Hakkai contently showered him with. Repeating to himself in his mind that he was happy and wanted, however, made his contentment swell in his breast, and he soon forgot the strain of the day, of their days apart, under Hakkai’s gentle touch.


	29. On The Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanzo goes on a trip with Goku and his family.

**29: On The Road**

Sanzo invited Goku to sleep over at his home the night before the Sacramento trip, selfishly wanting to have at least a little of his day off alone with Goku before spending the day with his “Mother” and friend. Most of it was spent sleeping, but that was fine with Sanzo. Goku looked so content in dreams, a smile on his dumpling-round cheeks, all curled up on his side, flush to Sanzo when he was sleeping, and Sanzo kept him there, despite how very warm his small body was. Sanzo was almost loathe to wake him; he was so much quieter like this. It couldn’t be helped.

“Goku?” Sanzo, dressed for the day and just finished combing his hair, crouched at the bedside and prodded his shoulder, a little more sharply than he had to. “Hey, isn’t your Mother going to be here at seven? It’s six-thirty. You need to shower and eat.”

Goku opened an eye, grabbed his phone, and gasped. “Crap! I snoozed my alarm!” He scrambled from the bed and darted for the shower, exhorting regrets, as Sanzo smirked to himself.

“No. I did.” With that, he went downstairs to put together breakfast.

Koumyou had left oatmeal in the pot, and Sanzo added some brown sugar and sliced up a banana into the two bowls. Goku skidded into the kitchen just as Sanzo tossed the knife into the sink, his sweater still gathered up around his ribcage, a backpack hooked on one shoulder, and his socks slipping off his feet. Toudai glanced around his newspaper to chuckle at the sight, and Koumyou laughed a soft ‘oh my’ and fixed his sweater with a gentle tug.

“You’re excited this morning, aren’t you?”

“Uh-huh!” Goku beamed. “It’s always fun goin’ to the big city, plus I’m takin’ Sanzo this time!” He turned his grin on Sanzo like the beam of a lighthouse coasting over a calm ocean, and Sanzo smirked and held out one of the two bowls of oatmeal.

“Eat up now so you don’t have to whine about being hungry while we’re driving.”

“I got that covered.” Goku swung his backpack forward under his arm, and Sanzo peered into the open zipper to see it was full of granola bars and single-serve chip bags. Toudai looked too, and chuckled again.

“The young man comes prepared.”

At seven, sharp, Goku burst out the front door, his jacket unbuttoned and bouncing on his heels at the end of the walk, as Sanzo took an extra minute to put his scarf on. Koumyou, too, came outside and stood beside Goku, looking eager himself. “Would you mind if I met your mother, too?”

Sanzo grunted and skulked out after him. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Gracious, the two of you have been seeing each other four months, is there really any harm in me meeting his mother?” Koumyou clicked his tongue at Sanzo a few times, as he grumbled under his breath. “Ah, is that her?” A black car, an older but well-cared for sedan, was rolling down their sleepy little street towards them, and Goku gasped and leaned out into the street, waving. Koumyou chuckled. “I suppose so!”

The car stopped on the street in front of them, and a tall woman stepped out of the driver’s side. Most of her dark, curly hair was trapped under a headscarf, she had an elegant face with high cheekbones and plump lips, and her modest dress failed to disguise her buxom figure. She seemed to have eyes only for Goku, as he threw himself into her arms and she caught him in an embrace.

“Mama!” He buried his face against her shoulder – she was easily Sanzo’s height, and Sanzo realized he fit against her the same way he did him – and she smiled and hugged him.

“Hello, darling. It feels as if it’s been ages.” She released him, and he stepped back so she could kiss his forehead, then took his chin in her palm, looking him up and down, left and right. “Have you been well?”

“Yeah, I’m great!”

“Work and school?”

“Fine!”

“Good.” She patted his cheek. “You can tell me all about it in the car. In the meantime, let’s see this boyfriend of yours.” She stood upright and stared right at – no, through Sanzo. Sanzo chafed under her stare, as she strode towards him with the confidence of a panther staring down a lame gazelle. Sanzo stood straight, eyes narrow, as she came close, then grabbed his chin much like she had Goku’s. She turned his face left and right, her gaze not flinching even when he brushed her off.

“You could introduce yourself.” He crossed his arms, and though Koumyou wound up with a rebuke, she laughed, rich like chocolate and honey.

“Darling, we’ve met before.” With that, she turned to Koumyou. “Koumyou, darling, it truly has been too long!”

Sanzo watched in horror as Koumyou, laughing, accepted her embrace. She kissed him on both cheeks, and the two clasped hands like girls on a schoolyard. “Ah, Kanny, it’s nice to see you face to face again!”

Toudai’s voice boomed from the door: “Kanzeon Bosatsu, is that truly you?!” He strode out in his bathrobe, cackling, as Sanzo’s shock redoubled and Goku stifled a titter behind him. Toudai kissed her on the cheek as well, and Mother Kanzeon Bosatsu took and squeezed both of their hands. Sanzo strode right over to Goku and yanked his ear.

“How much have you told her about me?”

“N-nothin’!” Goku laughed nervously and shook Sanzo off, holding his hands in front of him as if to defend himself. “Just that I have a boyfriend and we’ve been seein’ each other since October and you’re super cute and serious, that’s all!”

“Cute’s right,” Kanzeon laughed, and turned back to Toudai and Koumyou. “Shot up like a weed, didn’t he? Your photographs didn’t do him justice.”

“No, but he never smiles for those, either.” Koumyou laughed wearily, and beckoned Sanzo. “Kouryuu, you really should meet her formally.” Kanzeon turned and faced him, then extended a hand.

“I’m Mother Kanzeon Bosatsu, and I was your foster mother for the first six months of your life, before Koumyou and Toudai adopted you.”

Sanzo reluctantly shook her hand, then peered around her to Koumyou and Toudai, scowling. “You two knew.”

“That Goku’s Mama was your foster mother?” Toudai smirked. “We had an inkling. We know that every child she keeps calls her 'Mama.'”

“We certainly didn’t think you’d remember her!” Koumyou laughed, waving a little and taking a step closer to rest a hand on Kanzeon Bosatsu's back. “And besides, we wanted to surprise you with the fact that you two have her in common!”

Sanzo scowled, but Kanzeon giggled softly. “You don’t have to call me Mama, of course. Maybe Auntie?” She winked at him, and he felt his frustration steam up into his cheeks. She didn’t seem to mind, slinking back towards him. “Your Dads have kept me updated on your progress as you grew up, but I thought it best to leave you be and watch from a distance. Looks like you turned out well anyway.” She giggled and patted him on the cheek again. “But we really must be going. Go ahead and get in the car. Goku, you’re shotgun.”

“Awesome!” Goku bounded for the car, and Sanzo skulked behind him, throwing poisonous looks back at his father all the way down the front walk.

Kanzeon Bosatsu’s car was cozy and warm, the leather of the seats well-used but butter-soft. Nataku was already seated in the back seat behind Kanzeon, book open on his lap, headphones on. Goku jumped in and threw his seat belt on, then twisted around to fist bump him. “Yo!” Nataku waved, but he didn’t react as Sanzo clambered in and sat behind Goku. Kanzeon got in last, sitting with surprising grace for a woman with such long legs in such a small space, and put her seat belt on before turning the key in the ignition.

“Buckle in tight, boys. I’m going to try to beat my last time.” She turned the radio on, then put the car in gear. Sanzo was flung back against the seat as the car lurched forward, gaining speed like a juggernaut as Kanzeon put her foot down. Neither Goku nor Nataku seemed to notice as Kanzeon driving like a wild woman, Nataku engrossed in his book, and Goku humming off-key along with the radio. As they got onto the highway headed south, Kanzeon tapped Goku’s shoulder. “So, sweetie, how 'bout you tell me about work? Were you sayin’ there was some new guy?”

Sanzo scoffed and crossed his arms, but Goku beamed and faced her. “Yeah! Gojyo hired this new guy! His name’s Gat, and…”

Sanzo made the decision to break out his newspaper sooner rather than later. He didn’t need to listen to Goku verbally drooling all over Gojyo’s new muscle.

Somehow, Sanzo had never thought about just how long three hours in a car could be. He’d taken trips before, but he usually spent them listening to music or reading. However, even though he had his mp3 player, he didn’t want to put his earphones in, and the newspaper only lasted so long. However, his main quibble with this trip was that Goku and Kanzeon Bosatsu were so LOUD. They’d chattered for the first half hour, Goku nattering about school and work and talking about Sanzo (which Sanzo was either aware of or found himself becoming incredibly self-conscious of, respectively), and Kanzeon, without letting up on the gas pedal, told him about the new children in the foster home and a few success stories. Sanzo noticed Goku clam up a little when she mentioned the children that had been adopted, but that was when she broke out the Broadway CDs.

Sanzo had no idea Goku knew every lyric in the Wicked musical. Or Rent, for that matter. The Broadway adaptation of Beauty and the Beast was in the collection too, but now Sanzo was pretty sure Kanzeon Bosatsu just had a Disney mix, and while Goku knew all the words, every line, he was not exactly good at staying on key. He and Kanzeon Bosatsu had been singing along with every single song, their combined voices the definition of dissonant mediocrity, for the last two hours (save for snack break intermissions) and Sanzo thought his eardrums would explode. He tried to silently express his frustration, covering his ears with his newspaper, but Nataku tapped his arm and shook his head.

“They don’t stop. No point in trying to make them.” He smirked, and lifted his book back to his face. “Just let it go.”

Sanzo ground his teeth and knocked a fist on Goku’s seat. “Any chance of an intermission? I need a smoke break.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Kanzeon laughed without looking away from the road. “We’re almost there. See?” Kanzeon pointed out the window, indicating the skyscrapers off the next exit. Sanzo sucked back his frustration and tried to clamp it down.

Sacramento was gorgeous under the blue sky, the sun bright for a February day, all the windows on the skyscrapers gleaming. The streets were clean, and all the area where Kanzeon threw out an anchor was a charming business district with shopping and food options all around. Goku and Nataku ran off first to find a bathroom, and as Kanzeon put money in the meter, Sanzo finally got the cigarette he’d needed for the last two hours. “Welcome to Central City, Kouryuu.” She winked at him, then circled the car and propped herself against the driver’s side door. “You smoke, do you? Just like your fathers. You didn’t quit when they did, hm?”

“Nope. I’d barely started.” Sanzo sucked his cigarette down to the filter, extinguished it on the sidewalk and took out his box for another one. “They can do what they want with their lives, I’ll do what I want with mine.”

“Hm. The laissez-faire approach to your parents? Or is it muichimotsu?” Kanzeon giggled. “Did Koumyou raise you to be Buddhist?”

“He tried.” Sanzo sneered at the thought. “I have no interest in fairy tales.”

“Mm, but you must admit the philosophy is interesting.” Kanzeon’s eyes sparkled as she continued to take him in.

Sanzo tried to light his cigarette a few times, but his lighter wouldn’t spark. Out of fuel, what a damn time. He fished into his pockets for a fresh one, but Kanzeon reached into her purse and held out a lighter, then flicked the trigger to give him a flame. He acknowledged her favor with a nod, then took the first drag slowly. “It is,” he conceded. “It’s helped me some. It’s a way to look at things, and I haven’t found a viewpoint I prefer.”

“I see.” Kanzeon sounded mildly fascinated. “You know, you weren’t this good for conversation back when I was changing your diapers.” Sanzo jumped a little, the cigarette falling from his mouth, and he whipped around to glare at her. She laughed. “What a face you have. I’m glad to see you turned out alright enough. I had faith in Koumyou, and he’s written me a few dozen letters telling me plenty about you.”

Sanzo narrowed his eyes. “What did he tell you?”

Kanzeon cocked an eyebrow. “Let’s see.” She started to number them off on her fingers: “There was the time you decided to go swimming in a starfish tank at an aquarium, then cried when a horseshoe crab swam up your shorts. Ah, and he told me about how well you did in school, though you were mean to other students. Ooh, and how when you were learning to drive, you refused to push the gas pedal with anything but your big toe because you were scared of driving too fast. Ah, and–”

Sanzo quickly swatted at her, hoping the heat in his face didn’t manifest as a blush. “Shut up, shut up! He told you everything, I get it!”

“He told me Ken'yuu bullied you.” Kanzeon crossed her arms, and Sanzo fell still. “He told me Ken'yuu bullied you for years. I was so angry when I got that letter, I very nearly demanded Koumyou send you back to me.”

Sanzo felt an unfamiliar ache set in his bones, and despite the bright sun and the crisp wind that ruffled his hair and blew Kanzeon’s hair scarf to and fro, he felt like he’d suddenly been shut in a cold, dark room. Kanzeon patted his cheek, and he pushed her hand off. “I’m fine. Not a word of it to Goku.”

“No, of course not,” she demurred, then turned just as Goku’s bright voice sounded across the lawn between the buildings and the car as he jogged back towards them with Nataku dawdling along behind him.

“Sorry we took so long, they made us buy something!” Indeed, Goku was holding four bottles of fruit smoothies, and he held them out to Sanzo first. “Here, you choose.”

Sanzo surveyed the options, then selected the strawberry-banana smoothie and ruffled Goku’s hair. “Thanks.” Goku beamed at the contact, then offered bottles to Kanzeon Bosatsu and Nataku. Kanzeon took the aloe-cucumber lassi, then turned to Sanzo.

“You need the bathroom, Kouryuu?”

“I would have gone before.” He narrowed his eyes. “And it’s Sanzo.”

“Sweetie, I don’t even call your Dad Mr. Sanzo.” Kanzeon quirked an eyebrow, daring him to challenge her, and he grumbled and stuffed his hands in his pockets. Kanzeon turned to Goku and Nataku, and clapped her hands. “I think we’ve enough time to visit the bookstore, boys. Shall we?”

Sanzo tried to pretend not to be happy at the offer, and skulked along at the back of the pack, sipping at his smoothie. Goku glanced back to him a few times, grinning contently. That face made it very hard for him to stay mad for long.

The bookstore happened to be the ground level of an office building, and Nataku and Goku both seemed familiar with it, with Goku guided Sanzo through the aisles like he had the layout memorized. Kanzeon Bosatsu happily purchased a new book for Nataku, a few issues of some recent comics for Goku, and three new newspapers for Sanzo (from three different publishers, natch, so he could get different crosswords). Then, she led them through the back of the store into the main building and to an elevator lobby, and Goku and Nataku followed as if they knew the parade route already. Sanzo crammed in alongside them, resigning himself to being alone for the ride.

Goku’s doctor was conveniently on the seventh floor, and Kanzeon and Nataku settled in two of the waiting room seats as Goku checked himself in. Sanzo followed Goku, hanging at his shoulder. He made small talk with the receptionist, smiling at Sanzo a few times as he joked back and forth. The receptionist took note of him, asking, “I see you brought a new friend!”

“Uh-huh!” Goku slung an arm up and around Sanzo’s shoulder. “It’s nice to make the trip with people who care about you.” He gave Sanzo a significant look, and Sanzo let him settle against his side.

Goku seemed content to lean into Sanzo across chairs as they waited, though he had one of his comic books open and Sanzo had already started on his first crossword. “How long are you usually here?” Sanzo asked in a mutter, glancing around the room. There were two other groups waiting, but they were keeping to themselves. Goku shrugged.

“It’s scheduled, and all, but sometimes they’re a little behind. But getting the shot only takes a few minutes, and then I talk to the doctor for a little bit about my progress. So, like an hour?” Goku turned his gaze to him, his expression bright. “And then we get lunch!”

“Mm.” Sanzo raised an eyebrow, but nodded. Goku knit his brow up and twisted around to face him.

“Um, and you can’t really come with me. It’s therapy, and all, so unless you’re my legal guardian or whatever, you kinda gotta wait here.”

“That’s fine.” Sanzo pointedly flipped one of his newspapers out, and Goku sagged with relief.

“Thank you.”

Goku got called back shortly, vanishing into the white room behind the door on the wall next to the receptionist. Sanzo kept the seat between himself and Nataku empty, content to read the news again (never any good news, of course), then to go through the crosswords and the Sudoku, even the Junior Jumble in the local rag. Nataku and Kanzeon each engrossed themselves with their respective books, clearly used to the routine. Sanzo both wondered and tried not to think about what was going on behind the heavy door that Goku had vanished into.

Did it hurt? Was Goku alright in therapy?

He had to trust him.

True to his word, Goku popped out an hour later, stretching his arms over his head. “Man, sittin’ still that long sucks!” Kanzeon was the first to get up to join him, and she smoothed his hair back.

“Did you have a good session?”

“Mm, yeah.” Goku spoke a little quieter. “He said I need to keep practicin’ my voice, 'cause it doesn’t pass as well when I get excited.”

“Does he?” Kanzeon shook her head. “He’s just listening for it. If you’d like, Nataku and I will help to listen, too.”

“Yeah.” He grinned sheepishly. Sanzo, however, scoffed and got up to join them.

“I think you’re fine.” He folded his arms. “Is that all you talked about?”

“Walk and talk, boys,” Kanzeon said, motioning, and going on about emptying seats for others, as Goku shrugged and naturally followed her.

“Mostly just about how I’m feeling, if I’m ‘integrating’ well, and if I feel like I belong. And I do.” Goku smiled broadly, and Sanzo felt some measure of relief.

He honestly envied that level of self-confidence.

Kanzeon took them to lunch at a cafe with a little sunroom and requested a seat in the sunroom so they could enjoy the natural light, and though Goku ate his sandwich with gusto, he noticed that he ate a lot like Nataku did – small bites, picking around his pasta and trying to decide how hungry he was. Nataku also seemed vastly more fascinated with his book than with his salad. Kanzeon, however, prodded him as Goku devoured the last of his French fries. “Sweetheart, I know you and Goku don’t eat nearly enough green stuff. Dig in. If you eat any less, you’re just going to waste away on me.”

This got Goku’s attention, and he pointed at a chunk of the chicken in Nataku’s salad. “Can I try?” Nataku nodded, and Goku speared the chicken piece and popped it into his mouth, smiling with satisfaction. Then, Goku turned to Sanzo’s plate, his gaze roving over it, before starting to point. Sanzo nudged the plate towards him before he could ask.

“Take some. I’m not that hungry.” Goku gleefully twirled a quarter of what was left around his fork, as Sanzo snorted. “You’re a bottomless pit, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but food doesn’t go to waste when I’m around!” He licked his lips, grinning, and Kanzeon chuckled appreciatively.

“I think your medicine makes you hungrier. Not that you were shy of appetite before that, of course.” Her eyes glimmered as she gazed at him from across the table, and he, ignorant of her motherly admiration, shrugged.

“I don’t remember all that much of before that. Just the big stuff. I can’t remember everything I eat; I eat a lot of things!” With that, he hopped up. “I’ll be back in a second. Hey, Nataku, where’s the bathroom?”

Kanzeon pushed her chair back as well. “I’ll show you. Nataku, Kouryuu, don’t go far, and don’t cause trouble.”

Both Nataku and Sanzo grunted assent, not even moving from their places. Kanzeon and Goku both had to stifle laughter as they left the table. Nataku continued to pick at his salad, and Sanzo dug out his newspaper again, knowing Goku would happily eat what he hadn’t. A few minutes after they left, however, Nataku tapped the tines of his fork to Sanzo’s newspaper.

“Listen.” Sanzo didn’t fold his newspaper over, but Nataku used his fork to push it down and glowered over the crumpled edge. “Earlier, you grabbed Goku’s ear.”

Sanzo had to think, then remembered, yes, he had, this morning before they left. “Is that a problem?”

Nataku sucked in a breath, then stood to loom over Sanzo. “Do you usually treat him that rough?” Sanzo didn’t answer, narrowing his eyes, and pulled his newspaper straight. Nataku whipped an arm out and knocked the paper from his hands, and Sanzo could only stare, surprised, and anger seethed up into his throat.

“You fucking–”

“You,” Nataku spat, shoulders shaking, “do not hurt Goku.” Sanzo wound up tighter, but he realized that Nataku was loaded with a cold fury that Sanzo had never seen before. “Nobody hurts Goku. If I find out you hit him, shout at him, push him around, or hurt him in any way, you will answer to me.”

That stopped Sanzo cold. He bit back his insult, but pushed himself from his chair and picked his newspaper up from the floor. Then, he muttered, “He has never complained about any form of physical contact I’ve had with him.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s okay. Goku hits back when hit unless it’s someone he likes. This is your only warning. If you hurt him, I hurt you. That’s it.” Nataku exhaled, then settled down into his chair again and motioned towards the table. “And if you’re going to give him your pasta, just put it at his spot.”

Sanzo realized Nataku had gone back to his placid neutrality, and settled again. He pushed his plate entirely into Goku’s place, and a moment later, Kanzeon Bosatsu and Goku returned. Goku gasped with glee as he saw the pasta waiting, and threw his arms around Sanzo. “Thank you!”

“Mhm.” Sanzo reopened his newspaper, ignoring the wrinkles in the top.

He was going to pretend that conversation hadn’t happened, but he would not forget what had been said. He tried instead to make quiet conversation with Goku around Goku’s utter satisfaction of eating more pasta than Sanzo could imagine what to do with, and ignored Nataku subtly glowering at him across the table.

After that, Kanzeon drove them all across town to a discount store, “The Goddess’ Basement,” a concrete-block building with a purple dress painted on the side. The inside of the store was loaded wall to wall with racks of clothes in disarray and middle-aged women rummaging through them. She made both Goku and Nataku grab shopping carts and handed a list to Goku and Nataku both. “Alright, kids, load up.” Sanzo took in the chaos, feeling dread building in his gut as Goku and Nataku pointed their carts for the wall of the store with the word “Children” painted over the blocks in the same bold purple paint. Kanzeon halted both of them as they lined up at the line where the tiled entrance turned into industrial concrete floor. “I’ve got a maximum budget of fifty bucks, and I’ve a few things to buy, so twenty a piece, try not to go over.”

“What’s more important, the budget or getting everything on the list?” Nataku held up the paper he’d been given, and Kanzeon smiled wearily and shook her head.

“We need everything on that list. Some of my sisters have four-year-olds running around without coats in this cold.”

“Got it!” Goku cracked his knuckles, then beamed and beckoned Sanzo to follow him. “Come help! We gotta check every price tag, but we can do it!”

Kanzeon patted both of them on the back. “Fly, my children.”

Goku and Nataku raced off into the store, turning the carts between the aisles like they were go-kart racing, but Sanzo stayed behind and raised an eyebrow at Kanzeon Bosatsu. She smiled, and explained without him asking: “This is the best discount store I’ve found, and all of my sisters ask me to hit it up so they can get their kids dressed.” She gestured. “They aggregate from everywhere, so we can find anything.”

Sanzo grunted acknowledgement, but as he moved to follow Goku, Kanzeon caught his arm. “Hey. Look at me.” He didn’t shift, but tilted his gaze towards her without moving his head. She took him in, still smirking in her habitual way. “Listen, sweetie, I don’t know you all that well, except what I’ve been told, but Goku’s taken with you. He trusts you.”

“He seems to trust everyone implicitly,” Sanzo huffed. Damn, he wished he had a lighter and were allowed to smoke inside. “Stubborn idiot of a monkey.”

“Hm.” Kanzeon smiled affectionately. “He said he picked up the nickname monkeywrench at work, but it’s since evolved into monkeybrains or even just plain 'monkey.’ It does roll off the tongue, doesn’t it?” She cast her gaze over him, loaded with aspersion. “I can tell you only call him names because you like him. Do you think that by insulting him, you’re going to make him like you less?”

Sanzo scowled and chose not to answer her. Kanzeon chuckled. “It won’t work. He laughs off anything he doesn’t think is true. Of course, if I find out you ever found a way to make him take it personally, I’ll start telling him every embarrassing story your dads ever told me.” Sanzo tried not to cringe, hoping his expression just came off as muted rage. He sought out Goku in the aisles, but could only catch the very top of his head and his messy hair. Kanzeon hummed with interest, studying him again. “But he trusts you. That’s good. Can I ask you a little favor?”

“You barely know me, so why not?” Sanzo crossed his arms tight across his chest. “I do favors for perfect strangers all the time.”

“Sarcastic, are you? You take after Toudai.” Kanzeon smirked. “No wonder Koumyou adores you. He’s always loved the serious type with a biting wit under that too-thin skin.” Sanzo felt his face take heat again, and Kanzeon sighed softly. “But Goku.” She nodded towards him. “I can tell he likes you. He wants whatever you two have to work. I don’t know how you feel about him, but he thinks the world of you. You should hear him talk.”

Sanzo tried to put steel in his spine, to keep from looking at her, but his chin dipped nonetheless. “What stupid stuff has he told you?”

“That you’re funny, when you want to be.” Kanzeon began to number things off on her fingers, “That you’re dependable. You can be surprisingly tender. That you’re strong, despite clearly living in pain.” This made Sanzo turn. Had Goku said that? To her? His heart had gotten tangled in its strings, and he felt like it was being constricted. Kanzeon simply shrugged. “All nice things, of course. So, here’s the thing: when he’s out of school, he’s out of my hands for good. We can still talk, sure, but I’ll have no more legal claim to him, his stipend is gone, and my higher-ups said I won’t be able to help him anymore.” She gripped her elbows tight and tore her gaze away from him, smiling wryly at the floor. “So, before I set him free, I’d like if you’d tell me you’ll take care of him.”

Did Goku know? Sanzo had no idea. Goku was going to graduate soon, and he’d be on his own. He wanted to say it wasn’t his problem, except he’d already reached out to Goku. From the first moment he’d been drawn towards him, he’d wanted to bring Goku closer, but he knew the risk of letting him in. Sanzo shook his head and scoffed. “I don’t know if what he and I share is permanent. Nothing’s permanent.”

“So you are a Buddhist.” Kanzeon smirked, and Sanzo sucked back annoyance. (Presumptive bitch of a sister.)

“Whatever. I’ll do what I can for him.”

He knew he had it in his bank account to spirit Goku out of his shitty apartment, to pay his bills, shit, he had enough in the bank even after student loans to help him get any stupid surgery he thought he needed to feel complete. He could rescue Goku right now, but Goku had never expressed a need for rescue. Goku had just happened into his life, happy as could be to be anywhere, to be anything, happy to exist. He hadn’t needed Sanzo. Would he want Sanzo’s help? Would he need it?

“If he wants me, I’m here.” Sanzo shook his head. “It’s as simple as that.”

“Good.” Kanzeon slapped him on the back, hard enough to knock him a step forward, and he whipped around to glare at her again. “Now go help him. If nothing else, he might need someone with long arms to help him hold everything he’s looking at. I’ll help Nataku.” She sauntered away in the direction Nataku had ran, and Sanzo skulked the other direction to find Goku in the aisles.

Goku was holding an armful of shirts, flipping through all of them, but as Sanzo came close, Goku managed to lash one arm out to catch him by his scarf. “Good timing! Hold your arms out like you’re a big tree!” Sanzo didn’t move, but Goku 'helpfully’ pushed his arms into place, then started to hang all of the shirts he was holding over it as if Sanzo were a clothesline. Sanzo pinched his face with annoyance, but held still. Goku looked over all of the shirts studiously. “Hey, if you were four and liked trucks, which one would you like?” Sanzo scowled at Goku again, but swiftly skimmed the options – all little shirts with trucks emblazoned on them – and pointed at a blue shirt with a green truck. “Yeah, me too! The truck really pops!” Goku nabbed the shirt into his cart and marked something off on his list. “Help me find a skirt in a little girl’s 8! She doesn’t like stripes or spots, but if it’s got a decoration on it, that’d be good!”

Sanzo had never thought he’d have a reason to pay attention to children’s clothes, but Goku was affixed to the details in his list. He made sure that every request was filled, from fancy socks with lacy ruffles, Disney princess tennis shoes, shorts with basketballs on them, and underwear in every size and color Sanzo hadn’t realized existed in underwear form. Goku started to talk somewhere in the middle of it: “I bet he’ll love this. Everyone likes bright colors, right? He must be a real character!” Then, he moved on to babbling about how much a little girl would love her new jumper. He’d smile to himself as he put everything he needed in the basket, one by one, and Sanzo realized that Goku wasn’t just shopping for these children, but for himself, thinking about them the way he would have wanted someone to think about him. His wistful little smile every time he succeeded told Sanzo enough.

Nataku finished first, likely hunting down his finds like he had a fucking scope on the end of his cart, but Kanzeon seemed impressed with Goku’s finds. “These look like exactly what I would have picked.” Sanzo watched as the cashier totaled up the purchases, and Kanzeon slid in under her budget, just as she planned.

Sanzo would have spent that on two shirts where he usually shopped. Nataku and Goku had to carry two huge trashbags of clothes out across the sunset-streaked city to the car. He’d only heard about a world like this. Goku’s reality became more stark with everything he’d learned about him, and yet, _and yet_ , it did not change that Goku was a ray of sunshine that lived as happily as any well-to-do suburbanite might. “Blessed are the rich in spirit,” some might say. Goku had his struggles, but he never complained.

Even though it was obvious his family worried about him. He had every reason to complain, to bemoan the things he had to put up with, but he didn’t. Only the important things.

“Jeez,” he moaned under his breath as they got back to the car. “I’m _starved_.”

Sanzo moved to tug his ear, but thought better of it and stopped short in ruffling his hair. “Always thinking with your stomach, you damn brat.” He gave a lock of Goku’s hair a tug. “I can hit the convenience store real quick. You want a snack?”

Sanzo got Goku a cheese-and-cracker kit from the deli near their parking spot (and a magazine and a new lighter for himself), and they all settled back in, Nataku behind Goku, Sanzo behind Kanzeon, and they set off for home again. Nataku opened his book, but he seemed to fall asleep in it soon enough, and though Sanzo opened his magazine to check the financial trends, the long day caught up with him, and he nodded off too.

He wasn’t sure where they were when he roused, only that it had begun to get dark in earnest and that all he could see around them was highway. The radio was off, and Kanzeon and Goku weren’t singing, but instead talking in low voices.

“… you know how this is gonna go, sweetheart.” Kanzeon sounded unusually serious, even the usual laugh that bubbled under her tones muted. “Are you considering your options?”

“Mm, yeah.” Sanzo studied Goku’s face as he fidgeted in his lap, and though he seemed to don his usual smile, there was something tense behind it. “I, um, looked up train routes and stuff. Buses, too. I think I can pull it off. It’ll take longer than driving, but…” He trailed off, then shrugged. “It’s okay.”

“What about alternative treatments?”

“We tried the cream.” Goku scrunched his nose. “I mean, we could try different stuff, but that rash was really awful. And I’m super nervous about doing my own needles.” He lowered his chin. “Mr. Toudai… Sanzo’s dad… he warned me how dangerous it could be.”

“Plenty of people give themselves needles, sweetie. Even Toudai does, he takes insulin.” Kanzeon heaved a sigh, but steadied her palms on the wheel. “I’m not pushing, but–”

“Mr. Koumyou said he could help me find a doctor closer. He’s a therapist, and all! He knows other doctors, y'know?”

“Ah.” Kanzeon seemed to let this sink in. “And, you’re alright giving up your doctor?”

Goku hummed, but didn’t answer. Sanzo closed his eyes, wondering if Goku had picked that up from him. The difference was, Kanzeon didn’t accept it. Instead, she nudged his shoulder. “C'mon, kiddo. You gotta think about your future.”

“I do. And, the thing is, I see it’s there, and I know it is, but it all feels so far away.” He stretched his hands out and spread his fingers towards the darkening northern sky visible through the windshield. “It’s like, looking out at the bright light at the end of a dark tunnel. I keep pushing towards it, but it’s not real. Until I’m there, I can’t feel like I’m there. And I don’t know when I ever will be.” He dropped his hands to his lap and shrugged. “So, I just try to keep doing what I’m doing until I can’t, and if I can’t, then I guess I’ll figure it out then.”

Kanzeon considered this without turning her eyes from the road. Finally, she said, softly, “Nobody’s sure about their future, sweetheart. I just want to know what you want, and make sure I give you one last kick in the ass in the right direction before I have to set you loose for good.”

“What it is I want, huh?” Goku laughed, but turned to her with all his teeth bared in a grin. “Maybe some dinner. Chinese sounds good. Other than that, I guess I’ll figure the rest out as it comes.”

Kanzeon made a strange noise, inquisitive, concerned, even a little frustrated, but chuckled through her nose. “Whatever you say, sweetie.” Then, she spoke up. “Kouryuu, you awake back there?”

Sanzo managed not to say anything (sneaky bitch probably had known the second he’d come around), and cleared his throat. “I am now.”

“Should I take Goku and Nataku home first, or is Goku coming back with you?”

Sanzo glanced to Goku, who had twisted around to face him, and made a decision. “Goku, you’re welcome to stay the night.”

Goku’s gaze brightened, his expression clearing, and he nodded. “Yeah, sure!”

Sanzo settled back into his seat again. “We’ll order in dinner. Anything you want, I’ve got menus. A new Chinese place opened up a few blocks away, if you’re interested.” Goku keened with happiness, and Sanzo hid a self-satisfied smile into the collar of his coat.

Kanzeon stopped to drop Nataku off first so Goku could grab a change of clothes, then took them back to Sanzo’s home. She grabbed Sanzo’s hand tight as he shook it one final time: “Remember what we talked about.” She winked. “And feel free to call your Auntie if you need me.” Sanzo shuddered a little as she closed the car door, but quickly escorted Goku inside. It was late, the night sky blacker than India ink, but not so late that Sanzo couldn’t order Goku a veritable feast of what passed for Cantonese-style cooking in their home city, and Goku happily relived the events of the day between mouthfuls of chicken in sticky orange sauce and fried rice. Sanzo found himself mulling over their trip himself. Usually, he thought of trips as sightseeing, visiting new places, accomplishing something. He hadn’t actually done all that much but each lunch and go shopping.

It had been enough. He’d learned more than he’d expected to. What he had to figure out now was what to do with it.

He hadn’t thought much about the future either.

When he began to have trouble keeping his eyes open, he declared “bed time,” but though he went to brush his teeth, Goku took a moment to clean up the plates on the floor instead of going for his backpack. Sanzo didn’t think anything of it, except when he came back and found that Goku had rolled his sheets back and was sitting on the edge of the bed, knees hugged to his chest, watching the door, bright brown eyes wide, his expression loaded with purpose. Sanzo smeared the last of his toothpaste from his mouth and crossed his arms. “You want something from me?”

Goku shook his head, but got up. “I wanted to thank you. Is that okay?” He advanced towards Sanzo, a wobble in his step, but that same determination in his expression. Sanzo remained motionless, as if he were being approached by some sort of fearsome predator, as if Goku might turn back if he thought Sanzo wasn’t there. Goku instead stopped in front of him, his bare toes braced on the worn old wood of Sanzo’s floor, shoulders relaxed, and looked up into his face, taking him in. “You… you went with me, and I know Mama’s loud and you were surprised she knew you, and Nataku, well, he’s Nataku, and you put up with so much. So much.” Goku bit his lip. “Thank you.”

Sanzo raised an eyebrow. “I said I’d do it. There’s nothing to thank me for.”

“Yeah, but…” Goku squeezed his eyes shut. “But it was a favor. I’m really grateful.” He slid his palms up Sanzo’s chest and to his shoulders. “Sanzo, I…”

Goku’s hands were shaking. He was starting to turn pink. The room suddenly felt small and hot, and Sanzo’s head spun when Goku got on his tiptoes and kissed him. They’d kissed before, but never this deep, this intense. It was as if Goku wanted to taste Sanzo, to consume him the way his gluttony drove him to consume everything delicious in front of him. This was Goku’s hunger talking, and something in the way Goku was kissing him told him he wanted to be consumed: like paper in a blazing fire. Sanzo let Goku suck on his lip and tongue, let him sweep his tongue across the roof of Sanzo’s mouth, lost in the passion that had clearly swept through Goku. Sanzo was feeling it too, like steam in his chest and a stirring in the pit of his belly, pure heat and pressure. He suddenly felt too small for his body, and even bigger than his every bone when Goku broke away, panting, lips swollen, cheeks roaring red.

Then, he dropped to his knees. Sanzo barely had time to react when Goku slid his pajama pants down his hips, letting his erect dick free, and swallowed him down in a single gulp. He cried out, surprise at the bolt of sensation that shook his foundation, a thrill like he’d never felt before, but Goku gagged and let Sanzo fall from his mouth. Sanzo gripped Goku’s hair to keep him from diving in again, but his cock was leaking, eager from even that brief moment of contact.

“Wait,” he panted, trying not to let slip just how goddamned good that had felt. “You don’t have to. Thank me. Not like this.” He shook his head, but as he stared down into Goku’s face, it was to naked lust and want.

“But I wanna. Sanzo, I wanna. So much. Please.” He licked at the head where it still pointed at his chin, and Sanzo groaned at the sight of his white precum on Goku’s pink tongue.

“If… if you…” Sanzo hiked his pants up just enough that he could walk unimpeded. “Let me sit. Take it slow. If you need to stop, then you can.”

Goku whispered a breathy 'thank you,’ and Sanzo bit his lip to keep from coming right then.

Seated on his bed with his legs spread, Sanzo no longer felt like he was about to collapse, and Goku braced himself on Sanzo’s knees and lowered himself onto Sanzo again, slowly this time. Lust twisted its way through Sanzo’s veins as his dick vanished into Goku’s lips, almost to the root but not quite. Then, he backed out, dragging his tongue on the vein, and took Sanzo in again. Sanzo moaned, as Goku gripped his knee even tighter and worked his mouth around Sanzo’s dick like an ice cream cone. Then, he laved attention on the head, licking it all over, and he glanced up a few times to make sure Sanzo was watching his tongue work around the crown, entreating -- no -- _demanding_  Sanzo's full attention as his tongue dipped into the slit.

“Ya taste good, Sanzo,” he breathed, and took Sanzo’s dick all the way in. He slid his hand from Sanzo’s knee and off his leg, but Sanzo had no idea where it was going, his sense lost into a moan as Goku shivered his teeth up his shaft then swallowed him down again. It was taking every ounce of Sanzo’s control not to come, not yet, not yet. Goku moaned back, and the noise reverberated up his spine. Sanzo slid a hand into Goku’s hair, not to hold him in place, but to ground himself. Goku swept his tongue around the crown of his dick again, then began to suck him in strokes, not quite letting him go, fucking him with his mouth. Sanzo could feel Goku moving under him, and realized Goku’s right hand was down the front of his pants.

Goku was actually getting off on this, fucking God. Desire smoldered in his eyes, color high in his cheeks, and he was more enthusiastic every time Sanzo couldn’t withhold a noise. Knowing this, knowing Goku felt like this because of him, set a flame somewhere deep in him, and Sanzo had to let it consume him.

“I’m gonna…” Sanzo choked on the admission, but Goku understood. He stabbed his tongue into the slit again, then took Sanzo down deep and sucked hard. Sanzo let himself go, his dick pulsing and shooting his load into the back of Goku’s throat, and though Goku squeaked his surprise, Sanzo couldn’t stop, couldn’t pull out, couldn’t hold back. He didn’t want to. He held Goku's head in place by his hair, and Goku didn't even try to move, instead sucking at each throb of Sanzo's dick and pulling every drop of pleasure he could forth. Sated, Sanzo stopped pushing Goku's head down and started trying to catch his breath and search his orgasm-muddled brain for the right words to say. Goku stilled for a moment even after Sanzo released him, then let Sanzo’s cock fall from his swollen lips. He hung his head against Sanzo’s inner thigh for a moment, and Sanzo loosened his grip on his hair and ruffled his fingers through it.

Then, Goku held a hand up and tipped his face towards Sanzo, the lust in his eyes snapping into panic. Sanzo, still panting, quickly understood and passed him a box of tissues. Goku snatched a handful and spit into it, then began to laugh into Sanzo’s thigh.

“Oh man. I can’t believe… we just… and you…”

“Hey.” Sanzo leaned towards Goku and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah!” Goku grinned, but it sagged. His jaw was obviously sore. Sanzo cupped his chin in his hand and kissed him on the forehead. “Seriously, I’m fine, that was fun! And when you, y'know, it surprised me, and Gojyo told me I didn’t hafta swallow but you might think it was–”

“Don’t talk about him right now.” Sanzo grimaced and tugged Goku’s hair, just a tiny reminder to ground him again. “Go… go brush your teeth. Come to bed.”

“Okay.” Goku pushed off the floor using Sanzo’s knee as a brace. “And, um, thank you.” He tipped forward at the waist like he was bowing and kissed Sanzo, but shyly now, tentatively. Sanzo took the initiative to kiss back harder, sliding a hand up his waist and back to hold him, tasting the bitter-salt-sweet of his mouth and tongue. Goku was dumbstruck when Sanzo let him go, and Sanzo lifted his hand away and motioned.

“I’ll wait.”

Goku came back, dressed in a loose tee and his favorite boxer shorts, and collapsed into the bed next to Sanzo. He cuddled up right against Sanzo and kissed him on the nose, but Sanzo nudged him back.

“You’re too warm.”

Goku glommed onto him again. “I’ll let go in a minute. I’m just, I’m so happy here.”

Sanzo rolled his eyes, but didn’t push him off this time, and instead slipped an arm under Goku’s back. “Grabby monkey.”

“Your monkey.” Goku smiled into his chest. “I, um, thank you, for letting me. I, um, I’ve never… you know… before.”

Sanzo wasn’t surprised, but hearing it made him feel a little better about admitting: “Me neither.”

“Whoa, really?” Goku sat up with surprise, and Sanzo rolled his eyes and yanked him back down.

“Of course not. You’re the first person I’ve seen like this, and I don’t go out and get fucked just for the sake of fucking.”

“It has to be someone important, right?” Goku curled his hand on Sanzo’s chest. “Someone special. Mama, and, um, someone else, they told me not to feel like I ever _had_ to. I wanted to, I really wanted to.”

“So you said.” Sanzo closed his other arm around Goku’s chest. “It’s time to sleep.”

“Yeah.” Goku opened his jaw wide for a big yawn that ended in a squeak, and Sanzo snorted, amused at knowing he wasn’t the only one struggling to keep his eyes open. He wanted to be aware for every moment of this, but at least Goku was falling out too. Goku rubbed his head on Sanzo’s breast. “Let me sleep in again, okay?”

Sanzo still didn’t push him off, instead sinking under the weight of Goku on his chest, his palm pressed over his heart, but smirked to himself. “I deny everything.”

Goku fell asleep long before he did, his heat and weight still on Sanzo’s breast, and heavy thoughts weighing his mind. That future was still there, still shining from the distance like a far-away star, but that light was touching them, and the closer their futures entwined, the brighter that light would be. Would it be hotter? More dangerous?

He didn’t know yet. Maybe Goku was wise in not worrying about it. Things were only getting more complicated, and the further things twisted, the more Sanzo hesitated to take the next step.

He closed his eyes at last on the thought that at least he and Goku were taking this journey together.


	30. Trust Issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gojyo gets some bad news, but after sharing with Hakkai, he comes to an uncomfortable realization.
> 
> TRUST ARC - PART 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've got...

**30: Trust Issues**

“Tell us! Tell us! Tell us!” Gojyo and Lirin hadn’t planned to start chanting it together, even as Jien laughed on the other end of the line, but damn if they hadn’t both started doing it. Lirin had bolted into the garage floor the second she’d gotten the call from Jien, and now both of them hovered over it in excitement.

“Guys, guys, come on!” Jien chuckled, their ruckus nearly drowning him out over the phone. “How the hell do you know what I’m callin’ for, anyway?”

“Don’t jerk me around!” Lirin set her hands on her hips and leered into the phone. “You told me, Yaone was seeing the doctor, now I wanna know what he said!”

“C'mon,” Gojyo added, finding himself more eager every second Jien stalled. “I saw her photo on Facebook, she’s gettin’ a tummy, that baby must be getting bigger. You gotta tell us the news!”

“Jeez, fine!” Jien barked one last laugh, then composed himself. “The baby’s doing fine. On track, healthy. Just as big as it’s supposed to be. Everything’s looking fine.”

“How’s Yaone been? Still upchucking every time she turns around?” Gojyo smirked to himself, and Jien laughed again.

“Way better, actually. She still gets sick in the morning sometimes, but she figured out if she takes it slow, it helps.”

“Enough of that!” Lirin slapped the table. “You know what I wanna know! Am I gonna have a niece or a nephew?”

Jien’s joy swelled in his tones, even as he teased, “And what makes you think I know that?”

“Yaone said she wanted to know, so of course she knows, come _on,_ dorkface, we wanna know!” Lirin stomped her foot, then started up the chant again: “Tell us! Tell us! Tell us!”

Jien kept laughing, protesting, “Is that really what’s important? Come on, guys!” Gojyo just joined Lirin chanting, until Jien finally gave: “Fine, fine! It’s looks like we’re having a girl!”

“Yes!” Lirin threw a hand up, and Gojyo high-fived her.

“That’s so cool, bro.” Gojyo could see it clearer than ever: their family was getting bigger. “I mean, it’d be cool either way, but…”

Jien’s elation settled, but it still echoed in his tones, even as Lirin kept celebrating the ‘victory of the girls’ and dancing in little circles around the oil stains on the garage floor. “I know. It feels, like, solid when I think of it being a girl.” Gojyo caught Goku peering around the car he was working on from the corner of his eye, but ignored it and leaned closer to the phone.

“So, hey, uh, picked any names yet? Were you gonna go for Japanese names, or Anglo names?”

“Anglo first name, but maybe a Japanese middle name.”

“Any picked out?”

“I floated one.” Jien paused. “Olivia.”

Gojyo sucked his cheeks in, fire blazing through his face as he put it together. “You fucking bastard!” Jien howled with laughter. “No, fuck you! I had no idea what that picture was!”

“Hey, no, screw you, we liked it, we’ve been calling her 'the olive’ ever since!”

“Come on!” Gojyo groaned. Jien’s laughter petered out, and he cleared his throat.

“Hey, actually, Gojyo, mind if I talk to just you?”

Lirin whipped around at this. “It’s my phone!”

“Yeah, but I need to talk to him anyway. Five minutes, Lirin, he’ll give it back.”

“UGH!” Lirin stomped away, and Gojyo scooped the phone off and turned it off of speaker.

“What’s up, bro?” Jien didn’t answer immediately, and Gojyo’s joy dwindled. “Bro?”

“I got in touch with our dad.”

His happiness froze into a stone in his gut. Gojyo tightened his grip on the phone. “Oh. Uh.” What was he supposed to say? “I thought he was dead.”

“Nah. Far as we’re concerned, of course, good as.” Jien snorted. “Apparently he jumped the border for Ontario. He’s still single, doesn’t have any other kids he knows of. He’s in a halfway house right now. Just got out of jail, so it seems. Uh, he said he wishes he hadn’t left, or that he hadn’t had to, whatever. He wanted me to apologize to you. He… he says he’s sorry. For what happened to you, and for your mom–”

“I don’t wanna hear it.” Gojyo hadn’t known the words were coming until they did. “He, he fucking… He left. He vanished. Shit, he ain’t my dad. If I’d had a dad, then…”

“I know. I just, I thought you should know.” Jien paused. “You’re through it now.”

“I just…” Gojyo struggled, and found himself lost for words. “I… hey. Please. Don’t, don’t… your kid, Jien–”

“Y'know, I’ve learned from not having a dad just how important it is that a kid have one.” The levity in Jien’s voice had been replaced with a strangely satisfying weight. “Me, Yaone, and Kou are rock solid, and I’m gonna do everything in my power to be the best dad she can have.”

Gojyo inhaled slowly, counted to ten, and exhaled. “I’m gonna go. Got work to do. Lirin wants her phone back.”

“Sorry to sour stuff. But, uh, hey, it’d be nice to see you and Hakkai again soon. Would you like to come for dinner tonight?”

“Some other time, maybe.” Gojyo grimaced to himself. “See ya round.” He hung up and took Lirin’s phone back to her without another word, then returned to the garage to grab his tool kit. Goku hadn’t stopped working on the car Gojyo had assigned him, but he did look up from refilling the oil on the car open in front of him when Gojyo came back in.

“Um, that sounded kinda heavy. You okay?”

“Yeah.” Gojyo pulled a face and popped open the hood on the next car on his list. “Hey, do me a favor and give me a head’s up around noon? I’m gonna head over to Hakkai’s for lunch.” He paused for just long enough to send Hakkai a text telling him the same, and got down to work.

It wasn’t so easy to think about the future when the ghost of his past was lingering around. Luckily, he had a friendly reminder on call.

* * *

“A  girl? Isn't that wonderful?” Hakkai smiled at the news, leaning over his bench and spreading flour dust up his front as Gojyo stood, elbow propped on the other side of it. Being invited into the kitchen was more than he had hoped for when it came to having lunch with Hakkai, but as long as he'd taken his jumpsuit off and washed his hands, Hakkai didn't mind letting him in (even saying he "wouldn't dream of" letting Gojyo eat out back with the dumpster). It just meant that Hakkai could glow with excitement under the white lights, blushing under the flour on his face. “Your brother must be excited! Did they have a preference?”

“Nah, not as far as I can tell.” Gojyo shrugged and tucked another bite of his sandwich into his mouth. “It doesn’t matter, as long as the kid’s healthy, yeah?”

“Of course not, no." Hakkai shrugged, still smiling. "But some families do prefer sons. Family name and the like.” Gojyo scrunched his nose, and Hakkai noticed. “Ah, but I suppose that becomes a matter of which family name gets passed on.”

“I think that since Kougaiji and Yaone are the ones who are married on paper, they’re going with Maoh. As far as I care, the Sha name can fucking drown.” Gojyo crumpled his napkin and threw it towards the trash can. “So, uh, apparently my dad’s alive.”

Gojyo told Hakkai what Jien had told him, ending with, “The fucker’s sorry for leaving." Hakkai frowned with dismay, and Gojyo shook his head, muttering, "Doesn’t change that he left, shit.”

“Oh, Gojyo, I’m sorry.” Hakkai slid a hand up to Gojyo’s shoulder. “But you survived without him. You’re more resilient than many. I’m sorry you had to be reminded of it all.”

“Eh.” Gojyo’s face twisted again, mouth turning down into a sulk. “It’s over, so that’s good, but… I dunno.”

Hakkai studied him, his gaze unflinching. “Did you want to talk about it?”

Gojyo broke eye contact. “I dunno. Maybe… Maybe. I guess… I could talk to Mr. Koumyou first, sort it out. Some of my stuff…" A self-deprecating smile slid into place, almost naturally. "I guess I’m a little worried about scaring you off, y'know?” He tried to laugh it off, but Hakkai shook his head.

“It’ll take a lot to frighten me off. If you’d like to try and sort it with Koumyou first, you should, but if it’s something you want to talk about, I do dearly want to listen.” Hakkai laid a hand flat, tracing little circles on his bench, and his gaze dipped. “I… I suppose I’d like you to talk to me, too. I want to know what’s on your mind. I want to understand you better.”

Gojyo, anxiety knotting up his guts and winding up in his lungs, shrugged a little and drew his arms up to his chest, folding them tight. “I dunno. I just don’t.”

“What is it you tell him that you can’t tell me?” Hakkai knit his brow up, and Gojyo felt the knots in him twist tighter.

“I dunno. There’s just… I dunno!” He was starting to feel incredibly and increasingly stupid repeating himself. “I don’t even know if I’m ready to talk about some stuff with him. I’m kind of still figuring out how much I gotta unpack now I’ve opened that goddamn Pandora’s box.”

“I understand that.” Hakkai still seemed disappointed, but he slid his hand up to Gojyo’s arm to cover Gojyo’s knuckles. “I’ll wait until you’re ready, but I want you to know that you can confide in me, too. I may not be able to offer the same guidance, but I will accept every part of you.” He squeezed Gojyo’s hand. “Please don’t take this as pushing.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Gojyo shook his head, but smiled. “But, uh, same goes for you, okay? If you want me to know, I’ve always got an open ear.” 

“Ah, well.” Hakkai laughed nervously, but Gojyo noticed him sliding a step back. “Don’t worry about me, alright? I want you to take care of yourself first.”

Something about that hit Gojyo wrong, like wires crossing in his head and heart. “Huh. Well. I guess.” He studied Hakkai, who seemed entirely content in carrying their dishes to the work sink as if he hadn’t said anything strange. It came to Gojyo’s mind that for as much as Hakkai had told him about what his life had been like before Gojyo had come into it, he’d left just as much unsaid. He hadn’t told Gojyo about dating Sanzo’s brother, or why they’d broken up. Something Sanzo had said when they’d first met came back to Gojyo: that Hakkai never left the kitchen. He’d been “damn lucky” to see Hakkai outside of work, that Hakkai didn’t go out. Had something happened? Was he still just mourning his sister? What was Hakkai not telling him?  
  
The thought was in his mind now, like a worm in a birthday cake. Gojyo couldn’t see the danger, but he knew he had to have a taste or it might just drive him nuts.

* * *

“I’m glad to hear you’ve taken my advice.” Koumyou was finishing up his notes, legs uncrossing for a quick stretch after sitting for a while, then quickly crossing again to restore Koumyou’s poise. “But what I want to know is if you’ve found it helping you.”

Gojyo, settled in the chaise and watching the shadows on the ceiling rather than the twitch of the end of Koumyou’s peacock-feather pen, drummed his fingers on the arms of the chair as he thought. “I guess. I mean, it ain’t like I’ve had any freakouts. Nothing to freak out about.” He drummed his fingers a few more times, then sat forward. “There’s something that’s been bugging me, and I’m not sure if I’m handling it right. If the way I feel about it is okay.”

“Mm. Reactions are not right or wrong, they are yours.”

“Yeah?” Gojyo raised an eyebrow, but shifted around to turn towards Koumyou. “There was… today. My brother told me our dad’s alive.”

“Aha." For some reason, Koumyou didn't take a note of that. "Was learning that stressful for you?”

“No shit. I was upset. No, that ain’t it.” Gojyo scratched the back of his head. “I was mad and sad and angry all at the same time. I mean, fuck, the guy’s nowhere in my life for more than twenty years, then calls Jien out of the blue and apologizes for leaving me. Fuck him, right?" Gojyo shifted uncomfortably, hesitating, except he could tell Koumyou was waiting for him to go on. "'Cept, it also made me think about how different my life would be if he had stuck around.”

“Humans are naturally curious, and since the path of your life was a painful one, wondering about other possibilities is a natural fantasy.” Koumyou tapped his lower lip with the nib of his pen. “What did you think of? How would your life have been different with him present?”

Gojyo raised an eyebrow – he hadn’t expected Koumyou to ask that. “Well. Uh. At first I thought, maybe my mom and I wouldn’t have gotten into such a tough spot without him. Except, he was in jail in Canada, too, so maybe he would'a ended up in jail here, too, and we would’ve been in the same damn spot.” He gripped the arm of the chair. “It’s not like he was all that great, if what Jien tells me is right. He didn’t have a job, or he got money in ways that made Jien’s mom yell at him. Maybe my mom still would'a… I dunno.” Gojyo paused, his hand running down the scars on his cheek. “If he had stuck around, maybe I wouldn’t’ve ended up living with Jien when I was little. But maybe I wouldn’t’ve ended up in foster care, either. There’s some stupid kid in me that thinks, if I had a dad, life would’ve been rainbows and sunshine, he and my mom would'a been happy, and everything would’ve been great, but he had a chance to be good for me, and he didn’t. Finally, I figured it wouldn’t'a changed much.”

“I see." Koumyou, ever neutral. Gojyo wished the guy would make some sort of judgment call and help him know how to feel, but that wasn't the point of this, was it? "Did accepting that help you?”

“I guess, but I was still all jumbled up, angry and sad.” He loosed a weak laugh. “Maybe I was just mad he was alive at all and hadn’t come for me before, and never even tried to care for me. I’d honestly thought he was dead, and I was fine with that, but then it turns out he wasn’t and I gotta unbury all the shit that I had accepted when I gave up on thinking he might come back. Him not being around made shit harder for me.” He fidgeted. “You think it’s fucked up I don’t even want him in my life?”

“The heart is not right or wrong, Gojyo. It only contains truth. You have no interest in bringing this person into your life, and that is your truth. If that truth changes or evolves, then so be it, but what’s important is that you live by it.” Koumyou smiled serenely, as placid as the white surface of a full moon, but Gojyo just felt a whorl of turmoil churn in his guts.

“Truth, huh.” He fidgeted again, tracing the grooves in the arm of the chaise. “There’s something else I’m not sure how to deal with.” He forced eye contact with Koumyou. “There’s a lot of stuff that I don’t know how to talk about yet.”

“Ah.” Koumyou didn’t sound surprised. “Do you need help finding the words, or are your memories somehow clouded?”

“Sometimes.” Gojyo promptly broke eye contact at the renewed scrutiny, but gestured as he tried to explain. “Sometimes, I think, there’s no way it happened the way I remember it, it wasn’t like that, it wasn’t that bad. And then, for other stuff, it’s like, it’s over now.” He let his hands fall to his lap. “What’s the point of talking about it? It won’t change it or fix it. It’s just gonna make me think about it again. I don’t wanna live through it again. And Hakkai’s askin’ me about it, and I don’t know what to tell him. I don’t want him to think I’m keeping secrets, but at the same time, I’m worried that this stuff’ll make him think less of me.” He twisted his finger through the thick seam of his jeans, winding it tight around his fingertip until it hurt a little. “I know I’ve been some fucked-up places, but I’m through them now. It’s over and I’m done with it. Why should I have to bring it up all over again? It’d just be like walking through razor blades a second time.”

Koumyou considered the question, eyebrows knit up. “Ah. Why indeed. I suppose, if you are so completely settled, at terms with your life experiences, you no longer need to see me.”

“No! Shit. I know there’s stuff I still gotta deal with!” Gojyo groaned.

“And you realize that unless we are both acknowledging your reality, I cannot help you work through it, correct?”

“Yeah.” Gojyo sagged, defeated. He could hear Koumyou tapping his clipboard with his pen.

“Please look at me.” Gojyo forced himself to tip his eyes up. Koumyou’s face was not of pity, but he had no better name for that gentle expression. “The key to peace is understanding your truth and knowing how it has affected you, and how you should not let it affect you. You have to trust me.”

Gojyo bowed his head again. “I’m tryin’, doc.”

“And for someone who has clearly held all of his turmoil in for so long, you’re doing well at unearthing it. Even if you’re not certain of what your truth is, we should discuss it.” Koumyou sighed to himself, sounding rather resigned. “As for Hakkai, I cannot speak for him, but his desire to know your truth should be seen as a desire to better understand you, all the things that led to the person he knows and seems to very much care for. If he cannot love you from every angle, then your relationship will be very difficult.”

Gojyo blanched. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” He squeezed the arms of the chair again, then let go. “Say, uh, he saw you for a while after his sister passed away, right? He said you taught him, uh, coping mechanisms.”

“Oh! Yes. Those are little exercises you can do during stressful moments or to bear off panic attacks and the like. If you’d like, I–”

“I mean, yeah, sure, but…” Gojyo hesitated when Koumyou raised both eyebrows. “What did you guys talk about? His sister? One of his exes? He won’t tell me what messed him up before I met him, and I gotta know.”

Koumyou’s hands fell open, his clipboard sliding down his palms, but he quickly righted it. “Gojyo. Do you recall what I told you during our first session? Everything that’s said in this room stays in this room, meaning, between you and me.”

“Yeah, but –”

“The same goes for everything that was said between Hakkai and myself. I took an oath when I became a therapist, and the privacy of every one of my patients is part of that promise. I can’t violate the trust Hakkai put in me, even to you. Especially not to you,” he added in a near-whisper. Gojyo hung his head again, but Koumyou reached over and laid a hand on his shoulder. “You two should have that trust. It’s something you can work on with him. You both should feel safe enough to share these things with one another, or if you’re not there yet, work towards developing that security. I can suggest couple’s therapy, as I am certified for it, but I want to work with you by yourself for now. Is that alright?”

Gojyo sucked his lower lip for a second, then grumbled a petulant “Yeah.” Koumyou patted his shoulder a few times.

“Talk to him. When he’s ready to tell you about Kanan and Ken'yuu, he will.”

“I got it,” Gojyo sighed, but, sharp-eyed card shark he was, he quickly spotted that Koumyou had admitted a few details without realizing it.

Ken'yuu. Was that his ex? He could have sworn Goku had said “Nii,” but fuck it, maybe that was a last name. Either way, Koumyou had all but admitted that something Ken'yuu had done was something Hakkai had needed help for. Plus, he’d said “and.” Whatever it was involved the both of them, and more than ever, Gojyo needed to know what that was.

He had to get Hakkai to tell him.

He hardly paid attention to the rest of what Koumyou was saying as he tried to puzzle out what could possibly be so bad, so damaging, that Hakkai was still recovering. Maybe Hakkai was struggling with his truth, too, like Koumyou had said about him.

Was this how Hakkai had felt about the things he hadn’t told him yet? Was he going to have to choke it out and admit a few hard truths if he was going to get to Hakkai’s? He knew nothing Hakkai could say or do would change how he felt, but he knew that there was no way Hakkai’s past was as filthy as his. Now that he knew Hakkai needed fixing, he wanted the chance to make that repair. How could he possibly say he loved Hakkai (and fuck, did he love Hakkai) if he couldn’t say that?

Why wouldn’t Hakkai just let him help?

He left, headed for Hakkai’s home, still dizzied with doubt.


	31. A Bright Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite the ill omens he’s seeing, Sanzo is looking towards the future.
> 
> TRUST ARC - PART 2

**31: A Bright Future**

“Oh, here you are.” Hakkai popped his head out the back door, where Sanzo was propped against the wall, cigarette in his mouth, phone in hand. Sanzo shifted his cigarette to the side of his mouth and raised an eyebrow.

“You’re surprised? I don’t just wander off.”

“You weren’t at the counter or in the office.” Hakkai dusted his palms as he came out and let the door fall shut behind him. “It was either there, here, or somewhere I hadn’t yet thought of.”

Sanzo scoffed. “Either way, you’ve found me. Now, what do you want?”

Hakkai, still cleaning the flour from his face and the cuffs of his shirt, hesitated, shuffling his feet, then quietly said, “How are Koumyou and Toudai doing lately?”

Sanzo rolled his eyes. “Same as ever. Whispering about my business where they think I can’t see, nosing into my life, and being a general embarrassment.”

“I believe that’s called ‘parenting.’” Hakkai let a smile slide into place, but it quickly faded. “But, er, Toudai. How has he–”

Sanzo cut Hakkai off with a heavy sigh, and stood upright off of the wall, shoving his cell back into his pocket. “I’ve been watching him. He’s been slowing down.” 

Maybe it was wrong, but he had turned his little tradition of doing the crosswords and Sudoku with his more taciturn father into a personal gauge of Toudai's health. He was watching the unfinished crosswords pile up, and did his best to pretend he wasn't watching the blank spaces increase more by the week.

“Ah.” Hakkai’s chin dropped towards his chest, but he rubbed his cheek in thought. “But, er, no illnesses? It’s, er, not the disease itself that will take him, but complications related thereto–”

“I know that, fuck.” Sanzo rolled his eyes, almost without wanting to.

“If he takes care of himself and continues to take his medicine–”

“I know. I know that, he knows that and Koumyou does too, but fuck, they’re both going on like normal most of the time, pretending they don’t know he’s gonna die while I’m pretty sure he’s given up already.” Sanzo smashed his cigarette on the wall, then sighed again. “It’s stressful. One day, the thing that’s gonna kill him is gonna come along, and I’m worried he’s too ready for it.”

Hakkai frowned, slouching, fidgeting: choosing his words, Sanzo was sure. “I… I see. No, nobody should accept death that easily, but perhaps he’s trying to come to terms with it. It’s not easy, but he has known it was coming for a long time. Perhaps it’d be best if you can make the last years of his life the best they can be.”

Sanzo rolled his eyes again and pivoted on one heel until his shoulders hit the brick wall again. “Yeah. Sure. Empty platitudes like that always put a smile on my face.”

“I’m serious.” Hakkai walked past Sanzo only to stand against the wall directly at his side. “Take him to places he likes, indulge him. Spoil your father. It’ll make both of you happier for it, and with luck, when his time does come, you’ll be able to remember him smiling.”

Sanzo snorted. “Yeah. Well. I guess there’s stuff that still makes him smile.” Toudai had never been the most outwardly expressive, but his rare smiles were very much worth it. "He enjoys when I bring apes home so he doesn't have to put pants on and leave the house to visit the zoo."

“Ah.” Hakkai was smiling again. “I imagine he’s happy to see you happy.”

“In the stupidest way. The old goat thinks the world of Goku. He and Koumyou both put him on a stupid pedestal just because he’s dating me.”

“I assure you, that’s normal when it comes to doting parents like yours.” Hakkai paused, letting the chill March air sit. “They treated me very kindly, too.”

“Don’t remind me.” Sanzo plucked out and lit up a fresh cigarette, his enjoyment of the moment fizzling out lie it had been rained on. “But they like him, and he makes them laugh.” He took a long drag and exhaled it out slowly, clouding the air around him and wordlessly convincing Hakkai to take a few small sidesteps away. “So, I bring him around sometimes. It does brighten them both up.”

“That’s good.” Hakkai covered his mouth and nose, but Sanzo basked briefly in the satisfaction at bringing a little of Hakkai’s annoyance into his voice.

“Was that all you wanted?”

“Mostly. You don’t talk about your family where others can hear; I’d hoped to have a full update.”

“There’s little to tell.” Sanzo shrugged his shoulders. It was the honest truth, but the deep set in Hakkai’s lips told him Hakkai didn’t believe him. “I’ll tell you if shit gets bad, but don’t bite your fingernails off over it.” He finished his cigarette and faced Hakkai. “It’s just as well you’re here. I need a favor.”

“Anything.” Hakkai observed as Sanzo fidgeted a moment longer. “What is it?”

Sanzo hesitated again, then turned his gaze down to his feet. “I’d like to list you as a reference on my bank for a credit application.”

“Oh, of course!” Hakkai laughed with relief. “Certainly, I can attest to your salary here and your work history. May I ask what you’re applying for? A new car, perhaps?”

Sanzo arched his back. “You got a problem with my car?”

“No, no; I’m just curious.” Hakkai stifled a giggle, and Sanzo scoffed, shaking his head.

“Never mind.”

“Sanzo.”

“Hakkai.” Sanzo gathered himself and lifted his face to meet Hakkai's eyes. “You… moved Gojyo in.”

Hakkai seemed taken aback, but shook his head. “Er, he hasn’t moved in formally. He stays over most nights, but he’s more like a stray cat. He’s welcome at any time, but he comes and goes as he pleases. I don’t hold on too tight. I’m not certain he’s ready for more.”

“Smartest thing you’ve said about him,” Sanzo grumbled.

“Ah.” Hakkai dodged Sanzo’s gaze and looked down to the floor, his disappointment subtle, but obvious enough to Sanzo. Sanzo rolled his eyes again.

“Except it’s obvious he wants more, and I’m almost entirely sure you do, too. Just ask him.”

“I suppose I could say the same about you.” Hakkai turned back towards Sanzo, accusation in his stiff smile. “How has Goku been? He still adores you just the same, yes?”

“Tch!” Sanzo’s face took heat, and he turned away. “Finish one conversation before you start another.”

“You didn’t say I was wrong, did you?” Hakkai crossed his arms, and Sanzo knew that smile and posture well. Hakkai was walling off the previous topic, and now he would demand an answer on this one. Sanzo sealed his lips, until Hakkai prodded again, gentler, “You’ve been seeing him nearly six months, the same as I’ve been seeing Gojyo. Were you considering your next steps with him?”

“It’s only been six months. My parents corresponded for five years before they even had their first date.”

“That’s very different.”

“It is.” Sanzo exhaled, as if the next words took an immense effort: “I’m considering moving him in. To my own home.”

“Oh! You’re going to get your own house? Congratulations!” Hakkai clasped his hands with excitement, but Sanzo waved it off.

“It’s not like we’re getting married. And… I’m still debating.” Sanzo reached for his cigarettes again. “I haven’t had a reason to move out, and at this point…” He trailed off, but Hakkai filled in the rest.

“You’re worried about leaving Koumyou alone.”

“Fuck off,” Sanzo grumbled, and Hakkai cleared his throat, folding his arms. “It’s not that. It’s just a big decision. I plan to get a house I can afford on my own, but even so, if I commit to getting a place with him…”

“It’ll feel real, won’t it?” Hakkai’s words touched a nerve, and Sanzo felt his very spine shake. “Ah, well." Hakkai laughed softly, imitating casual comfort and ease as Sanzo stood stark still. "For what my opinion is worth, you two are a good couple. I’ve never seen you so content as I do when he’s hanging off your arm and trying to make you laugh. It’s your decision, but I’m behind you on taking things to the next step.” Hakkai paused. “My opinion may not be worth much, of course; you have to do what’s best for you.” A church bell rang in the distance, striking noon, and Hakkai turned back as if he could see the bells and gasped. “Ah! It’s that late already? Excuse me.” Sanzo scowled after Hakkai as he passed him and slipped back through the kitchen door.

“Don’t think I don’t hear you pretending _he’s_ the problem between you two,” he grumbled, and finally lit his third cigarette.

He could admit he was somewhat using Hakkai as a meter-stick, a measuring point by which he could compare his whatever-this-is he had with Goku. After all, he told himself, Hakkai was his only real friend his age, and Hakkai had never been in (what Sanzo could now admit was) a good relationship before Gojyo, and despite Gojyo’s (glaring) flaws, his lewd forwardness, his annoyingly cocksure attitude, his paper-tiger self-confidence, he and Hakkai were a good couple.

And for whatever reason, Hakkai wasn’t taking that next step. Here, he should have been the one telling Hakkai to wait, be patient, not to rush in, but the two of them, in their weird way, worked, and Hakkai should be moving forward. He’d seen Hakkai in a bad relationship. It wasn’t pretty, but he hadn’t held back then. It made sense that his bad experience might be putting concrete in his shoes this time, but Gojyo was nothing like Nii.

He wouldn’t let the fact that Hakkai was hesitating on the next step hold him back.

He drew the cigarette from his mouth and blew a smoke ring, then sighed, "For such a smart guy, he can be such a fucking idiot.”

Something rattled at the end of the alley. Sanzo spun on his heel, certain he felt eyes on him, but he saw nothing there but an emptied oil tin rolling on its side. He took a step closer to it, then approached and tucked it back into the recycling bin. The air was breezeless; had someone been here?

Just as he moved to investigate the back street, his phone buzzed, and Goku’s face popped up in the alert window. Sanzo blinked with surprise – Goku had taken a selfie with his phone and set it to appear as his contact picture. “Clever monkey with grabby little fingers.” He smirked to himself and opened Goku’s message, to see him asking about his day, asking if he could come and see him after work.

Sanzo, still smiling without really being able to control it, typed back, “Only so I can yank your ear for getting into my phone and setting your photo up. When did you do that?” He sent the message, then tapped and swiped to get back to what he’d been looking at before Hakkai had come to join him.

A home. There were plenty of little houses on the outskirts of town, quiet places where Sanzo could be alone and still have everything he needed to be content. He got the feeling Goku wanted nothing more than a home to come back to, a place to belong. Someone to belong to. Sanzo knew that if he could just worry a little less about everything that could go wrong, he might be able to be that for Goku. He could be that future that Goku couldn’t grab yet, that light in the distance, and maybe it could be much closer than either of them had thought.

He could look at himself and admit he was gun-shy. No, he’d correct himself – he was being responsibly cautious. He knew too well how cruel the world could be. He knew that the second one grabbed on to something and held tight was the very same second it could be ripped away: _muichimotsu_ , the one Buddhist precept Koumyou had taught him that he remembered by name. To hold nothing. And yet, Koumyou had sometimes, reminded him, just because one’s not holding on so tight doesn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the things he has until they’re gone. Sanzo had watched plenty of things vanish from his life, but Goku was different. Goku was like absolutely nobody else who had ever been in his world, unique. He knew the second he opened the door, Goku would likely jump in feet first, he’d grab on tight, and he’d never let go. If Sanzo could just get past his doubts, it’d be worth it.

The smile that popped up with Goku’s next message would shine in his life every day, keeping those last swirling clouds back.


	32. Something to Lose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gojyo has a brief conversation that causes him to reconsider how he views his relationship with Hakkai and his entire future.
> 
> TRUST ARC - PART 3

**32: Something to Lose**

Goku cranked the Honda up on the jack as quick as he could, then grabbed his socket wrench and scooted up to the rear passenger-side tire, humming a little to himself between little grunts of effort as he worked the tire loose. He seemed to be pretending Gojyo and Gat weren’t watching him from the side table, Gojyo sitting on the work bench, Gat with his arms folded.

“Anyone can change a tire,” Gojyo remarked, “but it takes a pro to do it fast and right.” Gat nodded, then took a step closer to Goku.

“You got it?”

“No sweat!” Goku grinned and threw Gat a quick salute, and continued lining the new tire up on the axle. Gojyo chuckled a little to himself as Goku kept at it. 

“He’s a good kid. I have no idea how we’re ever gonna get a better apprentice once we’ve made him into a proper mechanic.” Goku couldn’t hold back a grin at those words, but he didn’t stop working. Instead, he cranked the last bolt back into place on the tire and clapped his hands.

“Done!” He jumped up and spun around to face them. “What’s my time?”

Gojyo chuckled and walked past Goku to check his work, but Gat checked his watch. “Minute-thirty.” Then, he extended a hand with a flat palm. Goku gasped, and ran over to slap him a low five.

“And it’s perfect, too! Good job, kid!” Gojyo came up behind him and ruffled his hair, and Goku basked in the attention. “Gettin’ better all the time, aren’cha? Your time’s up there with mine. I’ll make a good note for your teacher.”

“Thanks!” Goku beamed, his grin so wide it probably hurt a little. “Can I text Sanzo and tell ‘im my time?”

“Go for it, kid, then I need you to call our generics supplier about the bolt shipment, we’re flat out and need 'em yesterday.”

“Whatever you say, boss!” Goku hop-skipped off to grab his phone, and Gojyo turned, still feeling all warm and fuzzy with pride, back to Gat.

“We got a real good one, wouldn’t you say?”

“Mm.” Gat wasn’t much of a talker, but that rare smile spoke volumes.

“Yeah.” Gojyo moved back towards the office, grabbing the car’s keys, and Gat followed. “Lucky kid. I was still figuring myself out when I was his age. No way I’d'a had a steady boyfriend like he does, and I sure as shit wouldn’t be bothering with school. I’m lucky old man J got me and Banri certified on his say-so.”

“We had an informal apprenticeship sponsorship certification, too.” Gat shrugged.

“Oh yeah?” Gojyo raised an eyebrow back at Gat. “Then I guess I ain’t the only one. Still.” He pushed the office door open and pulled a blank report from the folder. “Good kid. Glad he’s got it together.”

“It’s a journey.” Gat shrugged again, standing starkly in the door. Gojyo could sense Gat observing him, studying him, as if he were looking for something. Gojyo tipped his gaze back up to him, meeting Gat’s hooded gaze.

“Something the matter?”

“I’m concerned.”

“Oh.” Gojyo sat up. “You wanna talk about it?”

Gat nodded, but instead of shutting the door, he took a step closer, then broke eye contact. “You and your… Hakkai. I haven’t seen you go for coffee lately. Is he alright?”

“Oh,” Gojyo repeated, dismay tinging his tones, and he looked back down at the report form. “Uh, me and him, we’re kind of… eh, guess I can tell you.” He glanced up at Gat, but couldn’t do more than mutter, “I’m kinda bugged with him. I ain’t mad, but I’m dunno how to deal with him, and I ain’t gettin’ nowhere. Nothin’s changed, just, tryin’ to figure out what to do next.” 

To his credit, Gat looked impassive as ever, like a Moai face embedded in stone, but his gaze dropped down towards the floor. “Does he know how you feel?”

“Huh?” Gojyo raised an eyebrow, but Gat shrugged his shoulders.

“You should tell him. Honesty helps most things.”

“Heh.” Gojyo couldn’t help but appreciate the irony in taciturn Gat telling him to talk to Hakkai. “Gotta ask, you seein’ anyone?” Gat nodded. “Lucky them.”

Gat shook his head, his expression unchanged. “Things aren’t perfect. We disagree. It’s not easy. We just… keep working on it.” He hung his head, his stoic expression suddenly pensive, but Gojyo put his pen down and settled in his chair.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I never asked for perfect, myself.” He scratched the back of his head, and his mind drifted back. Thinking about Hakkai, his warm smile, his kind words, his sweet, deep forgiveness, the smell of warm sugar in his hair and on his skin, made the anxiety he felt at baring his soul feel a little smaller.

“What is it you want?” Gat pressed, meeting Gojyo’s gaze again. Gojyo chuckled under his breath.

“What else can a guy ask for than a happy ending?”

“Sure ya do!” Goku popped his head in, grinning like a great big Jack-o-Lantern on Mischief Night. “That’s 'cause you think with what’s between your legs instead of between your ears!” Gojyo hopped to his feet.

“That ain’t what I meant and you know it!” He raised a fist, still grinning, and chased Goku back into the garage. Gat smiled to himself as Gojyo swore Goku down, pretending to be angry while unable to hold back a grin, then checked his phone. He had a few messages from Hazel:

_“Haven’t seen you lately. I know work’s got you running, but give me a call.”_

_“Did you get my last text?”_

_“Miss you.”_

_“It’d be nice to know you’re alive.”_

_“Are you still mad? This is just plain immature now. Call me.”_

Gat put his phone away and stifled a sigh, just in time to hear Gojyo announce he was going out back for a quick smoke.

Gojyo knew he’d been a little colder to Hakkai since his last session with Koumyou. His evenings had been too quiet since he'd noticed how little Hakkai seemed to say. It was definitely stressing him out, and that was the last thing he wanted. He’d hoped Hakkai hadn’t noticed him being quieter, being more careful with what he said. He’d thought he was being subtle, but Hakkai was way more perceptive than his glasses prescription suggested. Hakkai was probably quietly fretting over him again, and despite it all, that wasn’t what Gojyo wanted.

What he wanted was to talk to Hakkai and have a real, full conversation about some of the stuff between them. Maybe if he unpacked some of it, he and Hakkai could sort it, or get some help sorting it. Something! He wanted Hakkai, nothing was going to change that, and if he had to take the first step fixing it, then damn it, that was what was going to happen!

He didn’t even bother pretending to get a cigarette out when the door closed, but grabbed his phone out instead and dialed Hakkai’s number. It rang three times, but Hakkai picked up. “Gojyo? Is something the matter?”

“I, uh, hey, babe.” He tried to sound casual, though he could feel his tongue tangling with the words. “Listen, I, uh, I just really wanted to talk.”

“Certainly, I can make a moment.” Hakkai was polite, but terse – Gojyo didn’t like that. Time to fix it.

“I’ve been having some stuff come up lately, and I wanted to say I’m sorry. I–”

Someone grabbed Gojyo’s shoulder. “The fuck–?!” Banri was there, standing beside him, wearing a sinister smirk that screamed trouble. Banri put a finger over his lips, then motioned for Gojyo to hang up the phone, then drew a line across his own neck. 'Or else.’ Fuck. “Goku, can this wait?!” He scowled at Banri and tried to wave him off, but Banri shook his head.

“Gojyo?” Hakkai was still there, sounding confused, but Banri was reaching for his phone.

“Hakkai, I gotta–” Banri snatched the phone and hung it up, then stuffed it into his jacket.

“No shit. We gotta talk.” Banri slammed his palm on the wall over Gojyo’s shoulder, trapping him against the brick wall – so he thought, until Gojyo shoved him back.

“Fuck off, I ain’t got shit to say to you! The fuck do you want?”

Banri scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Hell, Gojyo, I gave you a chance. I thought you’d see things right if I gave you time to figure it out, but here you are hangin’ on like a dog that’s bit the mailman’s ass.”

“Your made-up slang is still shit.” Gojyo advanced a step towards him, drawing himself up. “Look, we ain’t got nothin’ between us no more, you’re not getting your paws back on my business, and if I’m being honest, you’re kind of a dick. You ain’t got no right to–”

Banri reached into his jacket, and Gojyo jumped back, expecting a knife. Instead, Banri got out a cigarette and an envelope from the inner pocket of his jacket, and lit up. “I need back in.”

“And I told you no.” Gojyo followed Banri with his gaze as he paced and smoked. Banri sounded too confident, and it was putting Gojyo on edge. Even at that denial, Banri was unshaken.

“I said 'need.’ This ain’t an option.” Banri blew smoke towards the wall, then glared at Gojyo. “I wasted way too much time letting you play Mister Good Boss. I need this business 'cause I got a business to run.” He tapped ash towards Gojyo. “We got way too many cars coming out of the cities that need to get broken down and moved, and if I ain’t got somewhere to break cars down, then I ain’t gettin’ far.”

Gojyo’s eyes widened. “You mean you went through this whole fucking ordeal of setting up our business so you could run a fucking chop shop.” He shouldn’t have been surprised, but fuck, it still stung. Banri just grinned again, his teeth looking way too sharp.

“Money rolls in way faster that way. We get a couple good cars with universal parts a week and move 'em out fast, there’s no overhead, we just rake it in and retire when we’re still young enough to enjoy it.” He snickered, shaking his head and shrugging his arms. “Why else would I have bothered? Ain’t gotta worry about just taking a cut when you steal the car yourself and do your own butchering. Seriously, I’d'a thought you’d be all over the idea like a leech at Dracula’s house.”

“That didn’t even make sense!” Gojyo took a swipe at Banri and knocked the cigarette out of his mouth. He took a snippet of satisfaction from it, but his triumph died at the glare Banri turned back on him.

“Yeah, well, it’s the damn truth.”

“Fuck, Jien was right about you. I should’ve known.” Gojyo huffed. “If you think tellin’ me the truth was gonna turn me–”

“Fuck you, your fucking brother, and the fucking truth. All that Dudley-Do-Right bullshit makes me sick. You think you can change what you are by pretending you ain’t?” Banri opened the envelope now. “I gave you a chance to change your mind the easy way, but here I am, forcin’ the fuckin’ issue.” He turned the contents of the envelope towards Gojyo, a single piece of photograph paper, and Gojyo’s stomach churned. All the blood ran from his face at once.

“You said you didn’t have any of those left.”

“I’m a dirty liar and you know it.” Banri was smirking again, and waggled the paper. “Here you are, Mister Pure-of-Heart and Perfect. Little Mister Clean Living, huh?” Gojyo tried to snatch the photograph, but Banri hopped back and kept it out of his reach. “Man, I’m surprised your _perfect_ big brother never found this; God knows he was probably looking for it. Wonder what he’d do if he ever saw you like this.” He wiggled the photograph. “Or the nice folks you rent this shack from. Oh, or your pretty little boyfriend with the pert little ass and the proper, posh voice. I bet he’d beg your fucking pardon then, wouldn’t he?”

Gojyo froze for a second, his heart stopping. Then, he did manage to snatch the photograph from Banri and promptly tore it in half, then dropped the pieces. Banri just scoffed and threw his hands out. “I got digital copies, stupid! Not to mention videos, all over the fucking internet.”

“You bastard, you said–!”

“I say a lot of shit you wanna hear.” Banri set his hands on his hips. “What’re you gonna do, call the cops? Those idiots ain’t caught me yet, and you know you’re exactly as guilty as I was of everything. Everything, Gojyo.” He smirked. “So, go on. Call the cops. Tell your boyfriend. Tell your friends. In fact, I’ll do you a solid and show them myself, everything, every last nasty little detail. See how that goes for you. Of course, if you’d rather I kept my mouth shut–” Banri pounded a fist on the wall of the garage. “You open these doors for me. Shit, I’ll even cut you back in a little in addition to keeping our old secrets on the hush.”

Gojyo balled his fists. “You fucking bastard,” he repeated, his mind reeling and racing too fast to compose any better retort. Banri chuckled and slapped his back, then shoved Gojyo’s phone back into Gojyo’s chest.

“I’ll give you a week to make your mind up. One week. After that, I’ve got a flash drive to mail to your property manager, plenty more to bun, and I won’t stop until I make sure everyone you know knows just what you are and you crawl back to your place.” Gojyo scrambled to catch his phone, and Banri dragged his fingernails down Gojyo’s back as he pulled his hand away pivoted back. “Consider your options, kid. After all, you’ve got something to lose now, doncha?” Gojyo’s face fell, but he could still see the photograph torn at his feet. His phone started to ring, and Gojyo knew it would be Hakkai, who else? By the time he lifted his head and answered, Banri was gone.

He forced calm into his voice: “Hey babe, sorry about that.”

“It’s alright; did something come up?”

“Minor crisis, yeah.” Gojyo scraped his bangs back from his forehead. God, he hoped Hakkai couldn’t hear the nausea in his voice, only the cool, collected him he wanted Hakkai to know. There was still so much he couldn’t let Hakkai know about, not yet. “Don’t worry. I got it under control now.”

“You sound tense.”

“Just… just shaking it off, still.” He scrubbed his palm down his face. “I… I was just calling to apologize if I’ve been off lately. I’m workin’ on it. I promise.”

If nothing else, he had a deadline to work towards. Most people like a good deadline, right? It helped them  He had a week to decide if he wanted to give up the path he’d hammered out and give in to something he thought he’d given up, or if he was going to risk losing Hakkai and everything he’d built.

He’d thought he was on the right track. He had no idea how fast he could derail, and he could only hold on tight and hope he could steer through.


	33. A Devil in Your Details

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gojyo’s clearly struggling, and Hakkai doesn’t know how to help but to start showing his frustration. Luckily, someone else might have the right idea
> 
> TRUST ARC - PART 4

**33: A Devil in Your Details**

Gojyo was usually a lot more enthusiastic with his meals. Hakkai had grown used to Gojyo shoveling every bite in and complimenting him as he chewed. Hakkai would often consider scolding him for talking with his mouth full, but Gojyo’s genuine excitement was endearing.

Gojyo shuffling cauliflower through his bearnaise sauce and watching his meat go cold was disconcerting.

“I picked up this recipe in France, believe it or not,” Hakkai tried, pointedly swiping some of the sauce up with his fork. “The sauce, anyway. I’ve found it goes well on nearly everything, steak, eggs, fish… er, what do you think? Did you like it, or is it too lemony?”

Gojyo didn’t respond, his eyes down, but Hakkai leaned in and Gojyo snapped to attention, as if he’d just realized Hakkai had been speaking. “Oh, uh. Yeah. It’s really good. It’s just as good as everything you make.” He cast his eyes down again, and Hakkai knit his brow up.

“Ah, er, do you… how was your day? Busy?”

“Um. Same as always, I guess.” Gojyo finally speared a slice of his meat and chewed slowly. Hakkai felt a tiny hint of relief – he was eating, at least – but something was very wrong.

Hakkai pushed his plate away. “Gojyo, has something happened?”

Gojyo jerked to attention again, eyes wide like a dog who’d been caught chewing a shoe. “Uh – I…” He grimaced and put his fork down. “Don’t worry about it, okay? It’s… it’s something I gotta deal with.”

Being told not to worry only ever made Hakkai worry more, and he fretted silently as he and Gojyo washed the dishes together. He knew Gojyo was watching him now, as his fingers trembled and made the silverware clatter in his fingers, as he tried not to fumble his good copper. He nearly dropped his best saucepan, but Gojyo dipped low and caught it before it hit the ground.

“Jeez, watch it!”

“Sorry!” Hakkai clapped a hand to his mouth, then accepted the pan as Gojyo hoisted himself back to a stand, setting it aside, somewhere safe. “Ah, good catch. I, er, I–” He sighed, and grabbed onto Gojyo’s arms. “I’m just concerned.”

“You’re still worryin’, huh?” Gojyo bit his lower lip, but Hakkai set the pan in his hand down so he could run his fingers through Gojyo’s hair, then down the two narrow scars on his cheek.

“I’m afraid I have to.” Gojyo winced at Hakkai’s ministrations, but Hakkai shook his head. “You’re important to me, and if something is hurting you, I want to alleviate the pain.” Hakkai couldn’t tell if the touch was soothing or only riling up stress, like angry fish yawping at an insect on the surface of a stream. “Please talk to me.”

Gojyo caught his hand, then kissed the back of it. “Dammit, I’m stressin’ you out, huh?” He ran his thumb over Hakkai’s knuckles, tracing his long finger bones. “I had somethin’ rough come up at work, okay?” He broke eye contact. “It’s got me low, and I wanna deal with it, but I don’t know what to do about it yet. And I can’t talk about it yet, okay?”

“Is it that bad?” Hakkai frowned. Gojyo didn’t say anything, he just shivered. It might have been a weak nod. “Gojyo…”

“Tell me ya understand.” Gojyo’s voice was low and tender, like his bedroom voice but with devastation instead of intimacy. “Tell me you’ll wait ‘til I can sort it enough to explain it right.”

“I’ll understand anything you have to say. Please.” Hakkai tried to push a little closer, tried to wrap an arm around his waist. Gojyo, however, pulled back, and Hakkai felt as if Gojyo was trying to put up a barrier with that casual smile.

“Once I figure it out, I promise.” He slid his hands into his pockets. “Uh, I think I gotta go home. Got some stuff to take care of around the place, and all.” He kissed Hakkai on the cheek. “Think you could see me out?”

Gojyo kissed Hakkai good-bye at the door, and Hakkai watched, forlorn, as Gojyo clambered into his car and drove off. Ryuu wound around his ankles, mewing for attention, and though Hakkai crouched to pick him up and scratch behind his ears, the empty space inside of him remained a black void, an empty space, a vacuum. Nature abhorred a vacuum, and that darkness left by Gojyo’s absence, in the wake of Hakkai’s confusion, quickly filled with something even blacker, something toxic.

He set Ryuu down and took up his cell phone, not even hesitating as he scrolled down into his contacts and dialed Koumyou’s phone number. The phone rang a few times, but Koumyou picked up. “Good evening, Hakkai. To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

Hakkai forced a half-hearted chuckle, even though his free hand was shaking at his side. His control was dwindling fast, and though he knew it, he was doing nothing to stop it. “I’m afraid it’s not pleasant.” He crossed his arm over his chest and began to pace behind his sofa. “I’m concerned about Gojyo.”

Hakkai heard the rustle of a newspaper, then the closing of a door. “Yes, I can imagine you might be.”

That smarmy – what did he know? Hakkai felt his temper fraying, but had no capacity to do anything about it. Why bother? “I need to know what you and he have been discussing.”

Koumyou didn’t hesitate, matching Hakkai’s sharp tone with firm admonishment: “And you know very well I can’t disclose anything. It confuses me that you are asking, since you know my commitment to my patients' privacy.”

“But he’s not merely your patient.” He bit the word off, and his weak attempts to control his tone failed: “He’s my lover, and someone I dearly, desperately want to trust!” Hakkai balled his hand tight, fingernails digging into his palm. “It frightens me that he’s hiding things! What if he’s tricking me? What if all this, this subterfuge, this distance he’s making, what if he’s just been humoring me all along, keeping me at arm’s length, just so he can turn around and hurt me like–” He choked on the words, and Koumyou sighed.

“Hakkai, please listen. Take a deep breath, hold it, release it slowly.” Hakkai heard Koumyou inhale, and nervously tried to match it, but air burned in his throat and his exhale scraped the whole way out. “Hakkai, is this a healthy thought pattern, or is this borne out of paranoia?”

Hakkai, like a dog baited, bit back, “I’ve been wounded before, I see no reason to leave myself open to being wounded again–”

“Yes, that is true. But you know yourself prone to paranoia based on that same pain.” Koumyou’s calm was palpable. Hakkai wished he could touch it, hold it, feel it, _crush it._ “This is just how you have chosen to shoulder the burden of your truth.”

“I chose nothing!”

“Perhaps it was thrust upon you, but Hakkai, listen.” Koumyou spoke even slower, as the hair on the back of Hakkai’s neck prickled up. “Those experiences are in your past, and perhaps you can take those lessons and apply them to the future, but is this situation truly the same as the last? Is it possible you are letting your past mistakes cast a bad light on the new experiences?”

Hakkai gripped the phone tight and dug his heels in. “I learned from those mistakes! That’s why I can’t let it happen again!”

“Have you, now?” Koumyou hummed. “It seems to me you intend to relive them. What do you stand to gain from forcing yourself to relive something so painful over again?”

“I intend not to!” Hakkai was shouting, he could feel the walls close, his voice too loud, his form too small to contain his fury. “If Gojyo is going to hurt me, I’ll cut him off before he gets the chance!”

“Ah. I see the young man I knew three years ago is still a part of you.” That caught Hakkai off-guard, and he stumbled as he realized what he was doing, how angry he’d become. “Do you intend to release that anger on others before you know if they have earned it?”

Hakkai struggled for words, the anger in him warring with the sense Koumyou was offering. “I… I’m not…”

“Has Gojyo seen this side of you?”

“I…” Hakkai couldn’t answer, not even the denial. He’d wanted this part of him to die.

“We never finished helping you release that anger.” Koumyou no longer sounded the calm, detached professional; he actually sounded sad. “I know you still live in pain, and that pain can so quickly lead you to anger. It’s a frightening thing when your passive aggression becomes violent.” Hakkai closed his eyes, breathing slowly, the way Koumyou had taught him. He could feel his taut control returning, like a manic being strapped to a hospital bed. “You shouldn’t have to live with that poison boiling in your soul. Certainly, such anger is warranted sometimes, but it must be controlled, used only as needed. I speak to you as a friend, Hakkai, with your best interests in mind: your reaction is valid, but it is extreme.”

Hakkai shivered at this, but he tried to reflect and realized he couldn’t remember what he’d been saying. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

“Of course you are. Hakkai, if you wish to speak with me face to face, you have my telephone number.” Koumyou paused. “And, again, as a friend? Your Gojyo doesn’t deserve that anger. Please temper it before you speak to him next.”

The reminder of why he’d called in the first place sent a bolt of pain through Hakkai. “I understand. Goodbye.” He hung up, and immediately felt himself deflate.

How long had it been since he’d done that?

It took all of Hakkai’s strength for him to carry himself to a chair before his knees buckled, and he put his face in his hands. Ryuu was crouched under the dinner table, hackles up, keeping his distance; he’d frightened him. He’d frightened himself. “I’m not that same monster. I’m… I’m not…” His self-assurances fell flat even to his ears, and he found himself staring at his palms. “I don’t want to be angry at him. I don’t want that.”

Despite his frustration, he knew that exploding at Gojyo would likely just put him off. He was obviously in a precarious position himself. He was certain that if Gojyo weren’t stressed, he’d likely laugh it off and then cold-shoulder him for a little while. Unloading on Gojyo when he was struggling under his own burden could break him, and he knew as well as anyone how fragile Gojyo was under his surface.

“Oh, Gojyo…” He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could stop seeing red. “Gojyo, I don’t want this for us…”

* * *

Gojyo only knew his mind was wandering again when his elbow slipped and jostled his toolbox and the wrench clattered from the workbench to the floor, jostling him aware again. Goku looked out at him from under the minivan he’d been looking at, as Gojyo ducked down and picked the dropped wrench up up. Goku grinned at him.

“I didn’t see that, boss.”

“Sure.” Gojyo hoped he was putting on at least a half-smile at the joke, then shrugged, lowering his head again and glancing back down at the daily manifest, pretending to read it again. He knew he should have been working on a tire replacement, but for the life of him, he couldn’t concentrate. He groaned and rolled his hips back against the table, then heaved a sigh. He knew that standing around, mulling Banri’s stupid blackmail in his head over and over wasn’t getting him anywhere.

It was just making him miserable, the same kind of miserable that was making it impossible for him to enjoy Hakkai’s company for the last few days. 

How the fuck was he supposed to choose between sinking back into being a lowlife just when he’d thought he’d escaped that fate and losing the person who made being good really worth it? He’d thought he’d earned Hakkai, that Hakkai was his sign that he was on the right path. What the fuck gave Banri the right to pull him back the wrong way? And how the fuck was he going to have his cake and eat it too when he obviously hadn’t overcome the pain Banri could dredge up so easily? He could hardly remember the last time he’d finished a meal; even Hakkai’s cooking had felt hollow. The compulsion to starve was a really, really bad sign.

He was definitely more scared of losing Hakkai by a long shot, but all of a sudden, he couldn’t see a way where that wouldn’t happen.

“You look way down.” Gojyo snapped to attention when he realized Goku had vaulted to sit on the bench beside him, swinging his feet off the ground. Goku leaned over, his usual goofy grin in place. “What, you need a pick me up? I can watch the shop if you want a coffee.” He winked, and Gojyo groaned and shook his head.

Coffee sounded good, but his stomach twisted into knots at the thought of drinking it. Let alone having to come face to face with Hakkai to take it.

“I’m fine, short stuff. Just, junk on my mind.”

“What, for real?” Goku guffawed, then knocked on Gojyo’s head. “Your skull doesn’t sound heavier than usual!”

“Quit it, ya damn punk.” Gojyo’s laugh tumbled carelessly loose and died before he could mean it as he brushed Goku’s hand back. “It’s just… stuff. I’m alright, okay?”

“I don’t believe you, but whatever.” Goku shrugged and began to swing his feet again, letting his focus drift to the opposite wall. “Hey, Gojyo?”

“What’s up, monkeybrains?”

Goku hesitated, and the table rattled as he drummed his fingers on the surface. “Um.” He stopped, and turned to look at him. “How do you tell someone you love 'em?”

Gojyo took it in, then grinned. “What, he doesn’t know?” He elbowed Goku in the side, and Goku cackled and pushed him back.

“I dunno! But I wanna say it! I wanna say it so I can hear it and he can hear it!” He hunched down like a spring coiling tight and ready to burst skyward, all his teeth showing in a wide, wide grin. “I’m his first serious boyfriend, and he’s mine, so I’m gonna be the first guy to ever tell him that! I mean, other than his dads, y'know?” He chuckled a little, and when Gojyo laughed along this time, he meant it.

“Well, parents don’t count. Uh, I mean, I guess they count, but it’s a different kind of love, yeah. Hopefully.” He scrunched his nose, and his fingers gripped the edge of the bench as he tried to shove that thought back. “But, uh, I dunno.”

“I was just thinkin’ of sayin’ it next time he takes me out or something, or if he has me over. Just part of the conversation. 'Cause someday, I wanna say it to him every day.” Goku’s cheeks were a little pink with the excitement, his hands warm as he nudged Gojyo’s arm again. “How’d you tell Hakkai?”

Well, fuck. This conversation was about to hurt. “You’re assumin’ a little too much.” Gojyo crossed his arms, and Goku deflated.

“You gotta be kiddin’ me.”

“I wish it were that simple, but it ain’t.”

“No, no way!” Goku threw his hands out. “You mean you ain’t actually said it yet?!”

“No.” Gojyo thought there should be a “fuck” somewhere in that statement, but his bitterness walled it back and let it reverberate in his chest. 

“Why the heck not?!” Goku jumped off the work bench, gesturing aggressively at Gojyo. Gojyo ducked his head down and dodged Goku’s glare.

“Same reason you probably ain’t just blurted it out to Sanzo yet.” He jabbed a finger into Goku’s chest. “You don’t wanna hear him say, 'I don’t feel the same.’ 'Cause that sucks.”

“Gojyo!”

“No, you know what? Hakkai is smarter than me. Fuck it, he’s better than me.” The words scraped Gojyo as he said them, but it was the honest truth. His truth, he thought, echoing Koumyou in his mind. “He’s sophisticated and educated and he knows how to live clean and make things good, and he’s the prettiest fucking guy I know. What the fuck gives me any right to stake a claim on him?”

Goku set his hands on his hips. “He likes you.”

“Fuck,” Gojyo scoffed, and advanced a step away from the table. “Maybe he shouldn’t. Besides, you talk like a big shit, but ain’t you scared? Shit like that can scare a dude off, and trying to put _that_ word where it ain’t wanted destroys everything around it damn fast. You know Sanzo ain’t the warm and fuzzy type.”

“So?” Goku stood his ground even as Gojyo tried to tower over him. “Maybe I’m scared. It is scary, putting yourself out there like that! But I won’t know unless I try.” He brought his fists down in front of his chest, clenching them tight with determination. “I love him. Nothin’s gonna change that, and he might as well know. I ain’t askin’ him to say it back, but if he does, that’ll make the risk worth it.” He huffed, puffing his chest out, and Gojyo raised an eyebrow at him. “It’s worth it, ain’t it? Being loved back?”

Even the thought of that made Gojyo’s maelstrom of frustration feel a little smaller, like a spot of light was beating the storm back. “Yeah.” He closed his eyes for a second, just imagining that he could have that. “I guess.” He stepped back, leaning on the table again and apprising Goku, toe to tip. “So, tell me, O Wise Monkeywrench, let’s say you do love your Sanzo, but you got this thing that you gotta do. If you do it, well, it ain’t a good thing and it could cause you big problems in the long run, but if you don’t do it, and you do the right thing instead, you risk losing Sanzo.” He held both hands out. “What do you do?”

Goku didn’t hesitate. “The right thing.” He crossed his arms. “Duh.”

Gojyo sucked his cheeks in. He’d expected Goku to struggle, but no. “That simple, is it?”

“Yeah! I mean, even if doing what’s right means Sanzo’ll stop talking to me, would I want him if he’s really okay with me doing something wrong?” Gojyo bit his lip, as Goku fidgeted and added, “And, really, what are you gonna do that’s so wrong, anyway?”

Gojyo let his shoulders fall. “Eh. I wasn’t a good kid, y'know.”

“So? You’re not a kid anymore, boss.” Goku crossed his arms, brow furrowed. “You grew up, and even if you did wrong before, you’re doin’ right now!” Goku gestured around him. “You changed! Everyone does! Heck, I’m breathing proof!” He beamed again and thumped his own chest. “The 'me’ here isn’t the 'me’ that was here before. Not yesterday or last week, or even before that.”

“Yeah?” Gojyo raised an eyebrow, and Goku nodded, his shoulders steady, self-assured.

“Yeah. I mean, yesterday, I’d only changed oil a thousand times, tomorrow, it’ll be a thousand and six, y'know?” He grinned broadly, and this time, when Gojyo laughed, he really meant it. Goku let him laugh, but grabbed his shoulder. “Look, I dunno what’s got you so worried, but look, Hakkai likes the 'you’ that you are, and the 'you’ you’ve become. I mean, up until you got into this funk, you’ve been way happier than you were before you met him.” He set his hands on his hips. “But, see, that you? That you wasn’t the you that did bad stuff, that’s the you that got here, into this garage, and helping me pay my rent. The you that does the right thing, that’s the you Hakkai likes. Maybe even loves.”

Gojyo felt the bottom drop out of his stomach, and his knees locked tight in case the floor was about to follow. “Wait, you really think?”

Goku’s expression flattened, eyebrows low, lips thin, disbelief plain in his eyes, but then he smirked. “You mean you can’t tell?”

Gojyo didn’t have to ruminate on that long. Those flutters in his chest when Hakkai looked at him, the butterflies, the seafoam churning in his chest and guts, the ache of longing he felt whenever he looked at Hakkai, it all matched with his desire to hear Hakkai’s voice, to sit and talk for ages about everything and nothing or just to be beside him, to fall asleep at his side and wake up with their limbs all tangled, and Hakkai - if his actions spoke to his thoughts - _wanted the same._ Hakkai invited him in, opened his doors wide, greeted him with a smile, Hakkai worried for him when he was worried, and when he touched Gojyo’s hand or palm, his fingers trembled a little. He was feeling the butterflies too.

“Yeah, you know what? You might have it.” Gojyo put his hand over his mouth, trying to cover the pink in his cheeks but only succeeding in smearing oil down his face. Goku snickered at him, but he didn’t care, he couldn’t stop his smile. “Fuck, if he does… I gotta tell him, yeah.” He clenched a fist, determination setting in. “And I know what I’m gonna do.”

His decision was made.


	34. Unfinished Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gojyo is ready to move on, but something is reaching in from Hakkai’s past to open some old wounds.
> 
> TRUST ARC - PART 5

**34: Unfinished Business**

Gojyo knew he would come. Banri hadn’t left a number, and Gojyo had lost the number he’d had when Banri had dumped his last prepaid phone back when he’d up and vanished before. Banri had said, ‘one week,’ so Gojyo had counted the hours, and now waited behind the shop, shoulders propped against the bricks. He could see the street from both directions, but he didn’t bother looking around. Instead, he smoked, letting cigarette butts pile up around the toes of his shoes, and waited, ears open but eyes cast down. Eventually, he heard footsteps approaching, then someone wearing ragged Converse sneakers stopped in front of him.

“Give a guy a light.” Gojyo lifted his face, as Banri extended a cigarette towards him, already smirking. Gojyo held up his lighter, flicked his thumb off the edge of the flint wheel, showing the spark but no flame.

“No fuel. Ain’t got nothin’ to give ya.” Gojyo pushed off the wall with his elbows and drew himself up to his full height, pretending to look relaxed as Banri took him in like he was a mannequin in a window.

“Damn shame.” Banri reached into his jacket, and Gojyo tried not to tense up, tried not to expect the knife, but instead, Banri revealed a gas-station plastic lighter. “I ain’t got much, but I can share.”

“Nah, man.” Gojyo stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged, watching Banri slip the smoke into his mouth and take the first drag. He was waiting, waiting for Banri to make his move. He’d played poker a few times, and he knew not to tip his hand too early. However, he also knew this was no time to pretend he was playing games. “Alright, what you got for me?”

“I think I ought'a be asking what you got for me.” Banri blew smoke through his nose and crossed his arms. “I’m hoping it’s the goddamn garage key, since you’re a smart kid. C'mon, Gojyo.” Banri slung an arm around his shoulder, and Gojyo stiffened, his shoulders and spine tensing like wound cord. “I won’t even be around during the day. I can work nights, and you can keep up appearances during the day. You’re actually pretty good at it, it’ll be good cover.”

“Don’t need it.” Gojyo pushed his arm off. “Ain’t gonna be no cover.”

Banri’s smile sunk a little, and if he’d had eyebrows, he’d be quirking one. “What, so, you back in for good?”

“No, I’m out.” Gojyo braced himself as he dropped the bomb. Banri stiffened for a second, then arched his back.

“What, you mean you’re seriously gonna stand back and let me just do whatever I want with the photos? Come on, kid, you know I know everything and got everything.” He leaned in, daring, challenging Gojyo without a word, but Gojyo sucked his cheeks in and shook his head.

“I can handle it.” He tucked his hands in his pockets, and Banri began to pace furiously. Gojyo stood his ground, trying to be stone as Banri gesticulated wildly, throwing his hands around.

“You gotta be kidding me! You’re seriously gonna make me do this?”

“Ain’t makin’ you do shit. I just ain’t givin’ you your way.” Gojyo didn’t flinch when Banri whipped around on him, wagging a finger.

“I told you. The property manager’s gonna see it. You rent this fucker, I know that, I signed the fucking contracts with you. You’ll get tossed out on your ass, just like you got them to do to me, and you ain’t gonna have nowhere to operate out of.” Banri smirked and rubbed his chin, and Gojyo tightened his hands into fists in his pockets. “I could just sneak in and use the place once your ass is cleaned out.”

“Yeah, see, that’s the thing. We got a contract. You got pulled off the contract for theft you had literally just committed.” Gojyo inhaled slowly, keeping his chest puffed out. “But, see, that was a good reason. Ancient history don’t cut it, and that’s all you got on me.” Gojyo could feel a little real confidence under his facade, even putting on a calm smile as Banri subtly recoiled. “'Sides, they’ll remember you, that wasn’t hardly a year ago. I’ll give 'em a friendly call, tell 'em what you’re pullin’, and it won’t matter.”

“Yeah? You fuckin’ think so?” Banri’s upper lip curled, and he paced again, like a predatory animal in a small cage. “And your brother?”

“Unlike some people I know, Jien actually cares about me. He might be disappointed, but fuck it, even if we fight about it, he’s still gonna love me at the end of the day.” Gojyo drew his hands from his pockets and set them on his hips, keeping his heels grounded as if it could anchor his heart where it ached in his chest. Banri scoffed, then sucked air between his teeth.

“Cares about you. Loves you. You were always on about that 'love’ shit when we were dumb kids. I thought you’d grow out of it after a couple good blowjobs with people you wouldn’t have to deal with.” He huffed, then landed and spun back towards Gojyo. “And what about your Hakkai, anyway? You really think he’ll be okay with this?” He was smirking again, but it didn’t hit his eyes; the malice struck Gojyo to the core. “You know he’s too good for ya anyway, this is more than enough of a fucking excuse to drop you. You really want him to find out?”

Gojyo took one more breath, and found the strength to advance. “Fuck you, I’ll tell him myself.” Banri’s expression twisted into repulsion, and Gojyo crossed his arms. “If he ain’t okay with it, that’s his decision, and I’ll fucking live with it. See, I got somethin’ you don’t: a conscience. If I gotta pay for my old crimes now, then fine.” Banri was frozen, heaving for air, and Gojyo pounded his fist against his chest. “Besides all that, I got a purpose. I got something I wanna do, something to live for. I ain’t gonna give any of that up for anything. Not you, not this.”

Banri shivered, and when he spoke again, it was soft enough that Gojyo was taken aback: “After all I done for you, kid. Everything we been through.”

Gojyo sucked his lips in, grimacing. “You did a lot to me and put me through more.” Banri’s eyebrows knit up, and Gojyo didn’t flinch as he went on: “You were only ever good to me when you could get something out of me. Hakkai’s with me because he likes me, who I am now. Whatever you got don’t mean shit.”

Banri’s face twisted to anger again so fast Gojyo’s head spun, and he lunged for Gojyo, grabbing for his hair. Gojyo dodged just in time to let Banri hit the wall, and he pinned Banri in place by his wrists and trapped him there. Time froze, Gojyo’s chest ached, and he could have sworn he heard footsteps running away from them. Banri glared at him, any pretense of friendship or care gone, and Gojyo squeezed his arms. “We’re done here. Do what you’re gonna do and fuck off.” He let go of Banri and jumped back. Banri’s face twitched as if he couldn’t pick an expression, but the darkness in his hooded eyes shouted rage and hatred. Gojyo wondered how long Banri had hated him. Banri picked himself up and went to trudge away, and Gojyo decided on one parting shot: “And stay the fuck away from my goddamned car!”

Banri spun back around, his voice cracking as he screamed, “Fuck you, I didn’t touch your fucking ugly-ass, piece of shit car!” He whipped right back around and stormed off like a scorned lover, and Gojyo heaved a sigh as the tension ebbed out of him, and sank down to sit against the wall. He found a cigarette in his crumpled box and lit up. Half of him regretted not lighting up one last smoke for Banri, but fuck it, it was long since time he cut him off like a gangrenous limb.

Still, he’d committed to what he was going to do. He took his phone out and typed his message:

“ _Hey babe, we need to have a talk tonight, but I want to do it face to face.”_ He hesitated, then committed. _“I’ll see you tonight.”_

He just had to ride out whatever Banri’s actual revenge would be. Anxiety rose up in his stomach, but he forced it back out with a slow exhale of smoke.

“Now, we deal with the fall out.” He picked up the phone again and set about his next phone call…

* * *

Tuesdays seemed the longest to Hakkai. It was the day off he didn’t share with Gojyo. There were no content mornings strolling through the grocery store or afternoons spent on long walks, on movies, on whatever they fancied. They could do anything together and Hakkai was happy not to be alone. He’d gotten too used to company, perhaps, but loneliness was made infinitesimally more tolerable with a pot of tea, a book, and Ryuu curled up on the sofa over his shoulder. He only remembered the ache that came with the quietude of his days alone when they stretched too long.

The listless depression that had plagued him often came back with those memories.

He’d gotten a few texts from Gojyo earlier. Vague texts, promising a "talk." Hakkai had dearly wanted Gojyo to talk to him, had quietly pleaded for it, but now that it was coming, he could only feel anxiety. He’d tried to coax a more comprehensive explanation out of him, to no avail, because when he called, the line was busy, and Gojyo had clearly gotten back to work and couldn’t respond to texts. That was the only way Hakkai could rationalize it, and it wasn’t helping. Those horrid “what-ifs” that had driven him to despair and anger before rose up over him, and even with the reassurance that Gojyo might actually tell him what he’d been shying away from, he knew he was sinking into his old paranoia.

All he could do was pretend to focus on the novel in his hands and wait, anticipating Gojyo at the door.

The March shadows were stretching long and the skies were turning dark when finally, finally, there was a knock. Hakkai glanced up to the door, an eyebrow raised; Gojyo had learned to stop knocking. Perhaps whatever he had to say had him intimidated. Hakkai set his book aside, carried Ryuu to the bathroom and shut him in, then went and opened the door, ready to open his arms for embrace –

Only to find Nii standing on his step.

Hakkai shut the door, but Nii sighed loudly and spoke through it: “I come in peace, Hakkai! Open the door.”

“I’ve asked you to leave me alone. You clearly have no intentions of respecting my wishes.” The fire that burned in Hakkai’s chest was starting to rage again, like a demon he just couldn’t exorcise. He tried to will it back, but could only temper it enough to peek out at Nii again, watching for him to leave. He didn’t.

“Hakkai, this is important. It’s about that man you’re seeing. I’m concerned for you, and I didn’t know what else to do but to come here.” Hakkai watched through the peephole as Nii held up his arms in futility. “I’m acting in your best interest, as I ever have. You may have washed your hands of me, but I’m not finished with you.” Nii looked around and behind him, then leaned close, as if he knew Hakkai was watching him. “Listen. Has he been acting different lately? Strangely?” This gave Hakkai pause. Nii knocked on the door again. “I have something to show you.”

Hakkai slowly opened the door. Nii took his phone out of his coat pocket and held it towards Hakkai. “He’s the man I see in town with the long red hair, isn’t he? I happened to be passing by and spotted him talking to a shady character, and… Well.” He tried on a kind smile, but Hakkai could only see his usual cocky smirk as he shook the phone again. “A picture says a thousand words, hm?” He unlocked his phone and pulled up the image gallery.

Nii gave no further explanation, but let Hakkai scroll through the images. Gojyo and Banri, against the white brick on the outside of Gojyo’s garage, practically nose-to-nose. Gojyo pinning Banri to the wall by his wrists. Hakkai dropped the phone, his stomach turning. Nii had stopped smiling. “I don’t know who that blond guy is, but whatever’s between them, it looked pretty intense.” Nii shook his head, seemingly pretending not to watch as Hakkai staggered a few steps back, mind reeling.

“He… he couldn’t…” There were two things that came to mind: first, that Banri had lured Gojyo back into whatever he and Gojyo had been doing before Gojyo opened his garage. “What could he possibly…” Second, that Gojyo, his easygoing, devoted, kind Gojyo, had decided that whatever Banri had to offer him was better than the feeble affection Hakkai offered. It all seemed so unfeasible – Gojyo had never complained of him, and he enjoyed his work, why would he suddenly go back to Banri for any reason? – but the evidence, from Gojyo’s strange behavior to the images that now haunted his vision, was apparent. Anger warred with pain, and he couldn’t react, unable to decide between rage and hurt. Nii nudged him the rest of the way into the house, scooped his phone off the ground, and closed the door behind them.

“Hey, hey now. Go on, sit down, you’ve gone all blue and tongue-tied.” Nii ushered Hakkai to his sofa and half-guided, half-forced him to sit. “I mean, maybe it’s not what it looks like, hm?”

“I just don’t know what else to think.” Hakkai shook his head and tried to push his hair from his eyes, as if he could uncloud his vision, but he just came back to the same thoughts, _Gojyo lied to me, Gojyo’s tricking me_ , and Nii clicked his tongue.

“It’s not like you to jump to conclusions.” Nii crouched in front of him on the sofa, slouching like he always did. Hakkai couldn’t even bring himself to scold him. “Is it that bad?”

“I don’t know what to think.” Hakkai heaved a deep sigh, collapsing and doubling over under the weight of his confusion, and Nii clicked his tongue a few times and patted his back. “Nii, please.”

“Let me help you think this through.” He spoke a little softer, almost sounding sympathetic. “You’ve always been a little suspicious, even of me when we were together.”

“Nii.” Hakkai scrubbed his face with his palms, but Nii kept rubbing his back.

“Trust doesn’t come naturally to you, it never has. Your heart’s been a little broken since you were young, you know?” He paused and tipped his chin down to look Hakkai in the face. “Even Kanan couldn’t hold you together forever, could she?”

Hakkai winced, because Nii was picking at raw wounds and he probably knew it. Even she had broken his heart once, hadn’t she?

“ _I know, I know.” They were standing in the same room, Grandmother’s old furniture still smelling of chamomile and camphor, the décor all of flowers and trailing roses. Kanan, in full bloom, amber-colored hair tumbling over her shoulders, soft and beautiful in his memory, held his hands tight. “And I love you too, more than life itself.”_

_He’d only ever loved Kanan, all of his life, he’d only ever cared about her. Mother was nothing but photographs and stories, and Hakkai could feel nothing about either. Father had pushed them away every chance he got, never listening to either of them, even spiteful towards them. He knew Father blamed them for Mother being gone, he knew Father drank because of them, he knew the accident was because of the drink, and that had made even Grandmother, Father’s mother, distrustful of them. She took them in and fed them, of course, but Hakkai had never felt her love, only suspected her scorn under the sweep of her rheumy gaze, heard her gossiping to the neighbors in Cantonese. He could only guess what she whispered about them. Like curses, she surely said, and so perhaps they were, the pair of them. Something as black and evil as him, someone who could kill his own mother without even trying, he could only ever love his other half. Kanan, though, shook her head as he confessed it again:_

“ _I mean it. I love you. Not just–”_

“ _Hakkai.” She pressed her thin finger to his lips. “Please. I understand, and I know.” She shook her head but kept him shushed. “And though you have to believe I feel the very same, I know we can’t act on it.”_

_His heart, a fragile crystal held out in tremulous fingers, cracked under even that slight pressure._

“ _It’s wrong.” Her face ducked away from his, and she pulled her hands back, fidgeting with her fingers in front of her and fixing her gaze to the ground. “We’d never be accepted, and I want to live in the sun. We have to try to be happy with other people.” She bit her lip. “We should… we should try to see others.” She spun around, facing him with a kind firmness in her expression, a smile backed by stone. “I’m going to San Francisco State University. I’ve been accepted, and you can’t stop me.” She showed her teeth in her smile, as sharp as a knife, perhaps even without meaning to be. “I think it’ll be good for us to be apart.”_

_Just like that, she ripped out half of him and discarded it…_

“We had to be separated,” Hakkai whispered. “She was right, of course.” He’d never told Nii about that conversation, about his illicit desires, but he had always suspected that Nii had figured it out. He’d seen the two of them together. He couldn’t stop himself from looking at her every time she came home to visit, because he still crumbled under every stray smile. Nii shook his head.

“But it hurt you. Don’t rationalize that.” Nii sometimes sounded so much like Koumyou, but in this context, it was both sickening and intoxicating. “I think you were still in that pain when we met. Do you remember that day?” Nii chuckled hoarsely, a noise that had warped its way through a wringer. “Do you remember how hard you pushed back?”

“ _Mister Cho, is it?” Day one of his mandatory philosophy course, and though the content was presented well enough by the professor, Hakkai was much more interested in getting into material relevant to his major. 'Liberal learning,’ such nonsense; as if he didn’t know enough. The professor, however, had quirked a smile at him as he passed him on his way from the dim classroom to the hallway. “Don’t I know you?”_

_Hakkai was used to the polite, sharp smiles that seemed welcoming enough but that worked as a ward against unwanted attention. “I’m on your roster and in your grade ledger, yes.”_

“ _No, no, not like that.” Professor Ukoku chuckled, soft and low, waving the notion off with a flap of his hand. “You’re a friend of my younger brother’s, aren’t you? Hakkai Cho. You’re in pictures with little Kouryuu.”_

_This gave Hakkai pause. “Do you know Sanzo, then?”_

“ _Up until I reclaimed my true birth name, I was a Sanzo. Ken'yuu Sanzo, specifically.” Ukoku’s nostrils flared at saying the name. “But I preferred the name written on my birth certificate to that given me by the foster home. The surname my adoptive parents gave me means nothing. Ukoku Nii, but you can call me Nii.”_

_Hakkai briefly recalled Sanzo mentioning his older brother, Ken'yuu. He had said that they hadn’t spoken in a long time, and though Sanzo had invited Hakkai over for study sessions or to watch movies and he’d shared meals and company with his fathers more than a few times, the mysterious older brother had never made an appearance. Sanzo had said nothing kind about him, and Hakkai still recalled that when Sanzo demanded he stop calling him “Kouryuu,” it was because “I hate the way Ken'yuu says it.” He sharpened the edges of his smile. “Sanzo has mentioned you.”_

_“I’m sure he has, probably closely associated with the word 'bastard.’” Nii chuckled, looking almost pleased with the notion. What a prideful sort, Hakkai thought. Grandmother, weaned off of missionaries, would have said such was a sin. He generally gave her little regard, though. However, he also had little regard for this man._

_“Unless you need something from me, Professor, I’ll be on my way.” Hakkai moved to circle past him, but Nii chuckled._

_“Does it have to be 'something?’ Really, I prefer the value of 'nothing.’” This gave Hakkai pause. Sanzo had said Ken'yuu was intelligent, but that sounded like nonsense. Nii held up the class syllabus. “I saw you reading this over and looking bored out of your skull.”_

_No point in prevaricating, though he hadn’t thought he’d been so obvious. “I won’t lie, sir, I’ve read Descartes and Sartre out of curiosity, and I got nothing out of them.” Hakkai shrugged. “I’m required to take this course, so I will–”_

_“I hate it, too.” Nii smirked. “Don’t pussyfoot around me, and knock it off with the 'sir’ and 'Professor’ bullshit, too. This is just what I’m required to teach in the level 100 course. Believe me, I’d prefer to be leading discussions about Nietzche. He’s fun for debates, y'know?” Nii gestured, grinning wildly. “Anarchy, supremacy, apathy, pity, atheism – really, I have fun forcing some of the more stick-in-the-mud students to actually debate their own beliefs and play their own devil’s advocate. It makes one think! To paraphrase Oscar Wilde, we are our own worst enemy.”_

_“We are all each our own devil,” Hakkai recited. “Yes, I haven’t read the play, but some derivative, trite novel about the Great War I forced myself through referenced the quote once or twice.”_

_“You’re well-read! I haven’t read that book, but I saw a similarly trite stage play that referenced it.”_

_“Ah.” Hakkai hadn’t realized it, but he’d cracked a smile. My, was it nice to have someone to talk to. “I’ve not read Nietzche. I admit, some of his associations with fascism put me off.”_

_“It’s a shame; Nietzche’s work was influential in the German National Socialist movement, but that was never his intention.” Nii glanced to the hall, where the next class was gathering and waiting. “Ah, but we’ve got no place in this universe.” He thumbed over his shoulder at the loitering students, still smirking. “Well, they’re not my students. Not my circus, not my monkeys. Why don’t we go make our own place to be and continue this conversation?” He grinned, his gaze blatantly traveling Hakkai’s face. “We can talk about nothing for a while, if you’d like. Maybe somewhere with coffee?”_

_Hakkai would never be able to explain why he answered the way he did: “I have nothing better to do.” And somehow, that was the first of many such after-class meeting spent sipping tea and talking._

_Perhaps it was because it was true. He had nothing better to do, and nobody else to talk to._

“You had such high walls to scale.” Somehow, Nii had slid up onto the couch and his hand was on Hakkai’s knee, and Hakkai hadn’t shoved him off. “Perhaps you intimidated the poor boy.”

“Please.” Hakkai hated the soft crackle in his tones.

“I tried, y'know.” Nii slid the crescent of his forefinger and thumb up to Hakkai’s thigh. “You have to give me credit for trying.” Hakkai halted Nii’s hand, gripping his wrist tight.

“You did, but Gojyo–”

“Don’t talk about him.” Nii twisted his arm from Hakkai’s hold, just enough to free himself, but slid his palm up to Hakkai’s back instead. “He hurt you.”

“So did you.” Hakkai slumped, dodging Nii’s touch and sinking into a slouch. “And I’ve stupidly let you.”

“Mm, I didn’t hurt you. Not on purpose.” Nii tried to trace circles on Hakkai’s back. “I never meant to. If I did, then you have to know I only did what I did because I thought it was best.”

“For you.”

Nii chuckled, and Hakkai felt his hand grow subtly heavier. “In ways. I wanted you all to myself. Is that so wrong?” He didn’t let Hakkai answer, instead turning the pressure into a squeeze. “But it was for you, too. I wanted to take care of you, and I even understand why you couldn’t trust me. I know why you avoided me, why you pushed me back.” Hakkai felt Nii’s mouth at his ear, his lip just brushing at the lobe: “You know where you belong, and you thought you could avoid being drawn back to it.” Hakkai shivered, and Nii stroked his hair, his fingertips brushing his scalp. “You don’t want to even look at me and risk it.” He took hold of Hakkai’s chin and forced him to turn and face him. Hakkai felt a chill rattle his spine as Nii held his gaze, and tried to shake his head.

“Nii, I–”

“I’ve missed you,” Nii whispered. “I’m tired of watching from a distance as you pretend you’re happy. I want you to remember me. I want you to be mine again. Forget him; you know what you’re going to get out of me.” He licked at the seam of Hakkai’s lips, and Hakkai couldn’t say anything in response. He was still remembering what he’d thought was an unremarkable meeting for coffee.

“ _It surprises me.” Nii spoke a little like he was laughing, steam condensing on his glasses lenses. He smirked as he slouched over his cup, and Hakkai glanced up from stirring sugar into his tea._

“ _Beg your pardon?”_

“ _You.” Nii motioned between them. “This. Every time I invite you, you accept.”_

“ _I haven’t anything better to do.” Hakkai shrugged, lifting his cup to his lips for a sip. He didn’t miss the way Nii watched his lips move. “I don’t keep much by way of close company, and though I see Sanzo and his parents sometimes, our schedules don’t match. I live alone, my only family is more than six hours away–” The very thought made the words catch in his throat, but he swiftly finished, “And you don’t bore me to death.”_

_Nii laughed. “I can understand that. You don’t bore me, either.” He leaned across the table. “You’re different. Someone who’s not just obsessed with being happy. You can actually hold my interest.”_

“ _Hm.” Hakkai pulled a wry smile. “I never saw a point in pretending to be happy.”_

“ _And yet, you accept my invitations when you clearly feel no need to, neither out of politeness nor obligation.”_

“ _I enjoy your company.” Hakkai found himself leaning over the table towards him. Nii cocked an eyebrow, his smirk outright roguish, and Hakkai felt something different. A longing. A need. A desire to be as free as Nii, as happily unfettered, perhaps even an understanding._

_“Perhaps I like you.” Somehow, he was leaning in too, and Nii loomed large like a shadow over him._

_Perhaps Hakkai wanted to be swallowed. Perhaps that was the closest he would ever come to being loved._

Maybe it was the pain. Maybe it was the familiarity. Maybe it was that memory of acceptance.

No matter what the reason, Hakkai found himself kissing Nii this time, and nothing was stopping him as he threw himself into familiar darkness.


	35. Everything and Nothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hakkai gets one last lesson in nihilism from Nii.
> 
> TRUST ARC - PART 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS BAD BDSM PLAY AND RELATIONSHIP VIOLENCE. THIS INCLUDES REVOKED CONSENT, ROUGH PLAY WITHOUT EXPLICIT CONSENT FOR ROUGH PLAY, AND POOR AFTERCARE. PLEASE DO NOT EMULATE ANY OF THE BEHAVIORS EXHIBITED IN THIS CHAPTER.
> 
> I apologize for this.
> 
> Very special thanks to LePetitErik for beta reading this chapter!

**35: Everything and Nothing**

Hakkai kissed Nii, accepting his mouth hot against his, and pressed into his chest with wild abandon. Hakkai lost himself in the passion that stabbed through him, hurt feeding into need and despair, sucking at Nii's lips and letting Nii claim his tongue, until Nii released him, chuckling softly into his neck.

"Ah, how I've missed you." He turned the tables, forcing the kiss back on Hakkai and pinning him down into the love seat. Hakkai cried out, but Nii smothered and consumed the noise into his kiss. His hands seemed to roam everywhere, trailing over his chest and ribs, caressing his breastbone, until his thumbs finally came to rest in the hollows at his hips. Nii stopped kissing him for a second just to gaze down at him, to let Hakkai catch his breath and lick at his bruised lips, admiring him. For a second, Hakkai saw another face, someone eager, flushed with mischief, grinning with all of his teeth, but he willed the thought from his mind. Nii, kneeling up taller than him, drank him in with smug confidence, then licked at his lips, trailed kisses down to his chest, and rutted at the join of Hakkai's legs. “Have you missed our games?”

“Ah, is that what you missed?” Hakkai couldn't help a weary laugh, but Nii laughed too and yanked his belt loose.

“I missed many things. Let me.” Nii held his belt up. “Sorry, I didn't exactly come prepared to rekindle our romance.”

“Fine, fine.” Hakkai waved it off. He didn't care. He needed the release, and Nii had always known how to release his tension. He stripped his sweater off ( _shaking to the fingers, his hands shook as he dropped it_ ), and got on his knees. Nii slipped the belt around his wrists and buckled it tight, the edges of the leather digging in on his arms, and Hakkai felt something inside of him scream.

It was instinct. When restrained, he resisted, but he enjoyed both. He could let his anger loose, knowing he was an animal that could only snap as far as the end of his chain. He trusted Nii with that chain.

“Come on,” he demanded, his voice suddenly rough, as the side of himself he hated began to work its way to the surface. “I want it.”

This was what Nii gave him. A challenge. When he and Nii would argue, Nii would channel it into sex, and Nii liked to tie him up, liked to lace him with ropes and make him squirm. Nii had learned exactly how to touch him to work him upand Hakkai found a thrill in being restrained. Gojyo would never give him that. Gojyo seemed to prefer easy.

Hakkai couldn't stomach the thought of that right now.

Nii worked his shirt off button by button, taking Hakkai in his supplicant position in with a lazy smirk. “Patience. I like to watch you struggle.”Hakkai muffled a groan into his sealed lips, only to gasp when Nii reached around and popped the button on his pants and yanked his zipper down, then dragged his pants to his knees, leaving them around his ankles. He rubbed the flat of his palm against Hakkai's dick and scraped his fingernails up the plane of Hakkai's stomach, and he helplessly reacted, getting hard so fast he got dizzy. "Oh, look at you, clearly you haven't been treated the way you need."

No, he thought, Gojyo had never treated him like this. Nii planted a hand on his shoulder and forced him to his knees, running his jagged fingernails down the lines of his spine and back. Hakkai could feel little marks raising in his wake when he stopped, and tensed, knowing what came next. He could feel his lungs quake with each inhale, shivering with anticipation, knowing that Nii was going to --

_SLAP!_

\-- strike without warning, he always did, and Hakkai could never suppress the dark groan as the pain coiled with adrenaline. Nii brought his hand down on his backside hard, and Hakkai knew it'd leave a print. Nii was already tracing the imprint of his thumb and index fingers, and the sensation of Nii's chilly hand against his heated skin made him shiver. _No, Gojyo would never, Gojyo would never._ Hakkai strained against the belt, his skin crawling, but Nii braced a hand on his back and pushed his knees down.

"You're so cute when you're angry." Hakkai instinctively bucked back, but Nii chuckled with satisfaction. "Feisty, too." He scraped down Hakkai's back with his fingernails again. "You haven't had anyone to chase your demons back for a while now. Do you miss riding my dick and screaming with abandon because you got to forget to be human for a while?" Shame hit Hakkai right then, but Nii punctuated with another hard smack to his ass. His pulse sped up, and Nii kept going, striking him in the same spot over and over until Hakkai couldn't stop from crying out:

"Nii, please!"

Nii sneered, and swatted down Hakkai's ass and thighs over and over, leaving Hakkai writhing in his bonds and groaning piteously even when Nii paused, panting for breath. “Is that enough?” Nii smoothed his hand down Hakkai's back and thigh, and Hakkai, heaving for air, shook his head.

That was their game. He still recalled the rules.

His muscles tensed instinctively when Nii ran his palm down the line of his spine and the taut planes of his back. ( _He'd never reacted to Gojyo like that, never, everything he'd done with Gojyo had been nothing but pleasure_.) He shivered, piteous little gasps escaping him no matter how he tried to hold them back. Being made to feel weak only made his frustration swell, but no matter how he twisted against Nii's grip and the bite of the belt, neither let up.

When they were here, Nii owned him, body and soul, and, God, had Hakkai ever wanted anything more than to belong to someone. For someone to want him.

“My, my.” Nii's voice buzzed in his ear, but in his dizziness, Hakkai couldn't tell where he was. “You've needed this.”

_Have I?_

Hakkai shuddered as Nii's feathery touch drifted down his back again, then to the cleft of his ass. Without further warning, Nii forced a finger in. Hakkai yelped, then gasped: “Lubricant.”

“Say please.” Nii crooked his finger in and jabbed it against his prostate. Hakkai gagged on the word, the screaming sting of agony at being stretched conflicted with the overwhelming stimulation. He could only moan, even when Nii forced a second finger in with the first, this one with just enough slickness to cool the burn, then not enough.

“Pl... plea...”

“Begging is unattractive.” Nii jerked his fingers out and slapped Hakkai across the ass again. Hakkai shuddered, his muscles and skin all screaming agony as Nii kneeled up behind him again, pinning his ankles under his weight, and forced two slick fingers back into him. His strokes were fast, hard, deep, and merciless. It burned, and though the beast in him loved to hurt ( _Gojyo would never, Gojyo would never_ ), it was too much, too fast, too soon.

"Slow down--"

"That's not how this game works, or do you want me to gag you?" The next thrust in was especially fierce, and Nii chuckled darkly at the shock that shook Hakkai's entire frame. "You know this is how you like it. Nobody else can ever give you what I do."

Those words made Hakkai shake nearly as much as the pain. No, Gojyo had never. Gojyo wouldn't hurt him, not even if he asked. Not even if he wanted it. Needed it.

"Fine, then," he found himself murmuring, and Nii extended a hand to slide his fingers up Hakkai's cheek and onto his lips.

"Suck on them." He jerked the fingers still inside of Hakkai up into his prostate, and Hakkai stifled a soft groan, then licked at the offered fingers. Nii laughed again when Hakkai wrapped his lips around the index finger and sucked on it, but he quickly jerked his hand away to trace a wet line down to his nipple. His fingertips were cold and wet, and he traced little circles in rhythm with his thrusts into Hakkai's entrance until the nipple peaked. Then, he pinched it, but Hakkai's moan was cut off with a yelp when Nii bit down at the join of his neck and shoulder. He hadn't stopped working his entrance with two fingers, but the lube was starting to dry again, and Hakkai was stuck between needing more and needing Nii to stop.

Nii, though, was more interested in sucking and biting at his neck and alternating teasing and pinching his nipple. “It hurts,” Hakkai choked out, almost without wanting to. “Slow down.” Nii didn't respond; if anything, the next pinch was harder, and though Hakkai tried to twist free, Nii had him pinned at the legs, and he rewarded Hakkai's efforts by leaning against his bound wrists. He gasped at the string of the leather digging into his flesh again, and Nii chuckled.

"I prefer having you bound better than this. Don't you prefer when I've got you strapped down, arms and legs, spread for my enjoyment and unable to do anything other than feel?" Nii jerked his fingers in again, and the spike of need that rushed through Hakkai at those words surprised him. "You're going to feel me." Nii withdrew his hands with no warning, and Hakkai, again, surprised himself by letting out a sob that was both of loss and relief. Then, Hakkai felt Nii's prick pressing against his hole, and he braced himself against the arm of the sofa as best he could, his knees sliding on the soft linen of the cushion, and Nii pushed both palms down against the small of his back and pushed in with a single, vicious stroke.

Hakkai choked on sensation, feeling both suffocation and release. He could scream. He could scream like this. He could release it all. So he did.

"NII!" He tried to writhe free again, but Nii pushed himself in deeper, forcing air past his rebellious walls, and ground his hips against Hakkai. Hakkai let out another noise he couldn't smother, humiliated at his weakness but relishing the overload of sensation. Nii didn't speak, but he laughed softly in Hakkai's ears, barely audible against the embarrassing stream of noises falling past his lips. "You-- You--!"

"Yes," Nii whispered, then withdrew and thrust again. The rush of sensation was more like an impact, more pain than pleasure, and when Nii punctuated his next thrust with a slap to Hakkai's backside, the pain became too real.

All Hakkai could think was that Gojyo would never hurt him. That Gojyo would be so angry if he knew someone had hurt him – if he even cared anymore.

"It's too much, too fast," Hakkai choked out, as Nii drove down into him again. Nii slapped his thigh.

"Don't back talk. I'm the Master here." Nii thrust again, harder, rougher, and Hakkai twisted his arms out against the belt as the pain radiated through him. "That's how we play. You're mine, and I do what I want with you." Hakkai gasped again, pained, as Nii circled his hips, rubbing the head of his dick against his prostate, too much, too much. "You told me, when we fuck, you feel like an animal in need of restraint. I gave you your bonds."

How could Hakkai say that wasn't what he wanted this time? He wanted to be held and comforted, he wanted a gentle touch, he wanted someone to reassure him that he had a place to be. He wanted someone who would look him in the eyes so they could see each other's joy when they shared their bodies. He wanted Gojyo.

_He'd never have that again._

“Stop.” Hakkai twisted, tried to move, but couldn't. Nii didn't. The friction was too much, and Nii either didn't notice or didn't care. “Please, stop.” Did Nii have a condom on? He had no idea where Nii had been, why hadn't he asked? A harsh thrust; a hoarse moan crackled from his throat, and Hakkai struggled, unable to escape, unable to even brace himself. “Please, stop!”

Nii wouldn't. That had been part of the game too. Hakkai never got what he want, nothing but his bonds and whatever Nii would give him. Nii arched his hips up into Hakkai's, faster, faster, harder, a vicious cackle tearing loose from him as he pressed Hakkai's bound wrists into his back. The leather bit at Hakkai's flesh, and though Hakkai cried out again, Nii didn't stop. Despite it all, he'd come this far, they were this close, Hakkai was teetering on the brink of finding his peak through the pain.

“Going to come,” he gasped out, the words as sharp as broken glass past his lips, and in an instant, Nii grabbed the base of his dick and squeezed.

“No.”

Hakkai shouted his defiance, bucking back and twisting his shoulders and arms. His muscles ached and screamed, his need reverberated through his whole body, and though he wanted to find release, he couldn't, he couldn't, _Gojyo would never do this, Gojyo loved to watch him find his pleasure, why had Gojyo abandoned him?_ Nii pounded into him, his thrusts too hard and jerky, until he came without warning and pulled out to stripe Hakkai's back with white. As he choked out the last of his orgasm, he let go of Hakkai's dick and bit down on his shoulder, and Hakkai came, his stomach turning, his head spinning, his vision whiting out as he frantically thrust into air to ride out the anemic wave of pleasure that dragged him through his depths.

He didn't know what was happening around him, only that Nii got up off of him, his weight no longer pressing him, but his hands were still bound and his ankles were tangled in his pants. Evidence of what they'd done was still running down his back and staining one of his throw pillows, but he couldn't get up. “Unbind me,” he said, his voice crackling at the bottom of his register. Nii didn't, and Hakkai squeezed his eyes shut, nausea rising through him. “We're done. Let me stand up.”

He could hear Nii pacing behind him, the mechanical 'click' and chirp of a mobile phone (was he checking his voicemail? Now?), the rustle of fabric, then a weighty sigh. “I suppose I need my belt back.” Hakkai turned to see Nii already re-dressed as he popped the buckle and slid his belt off, and he slowly pulled his pants and boxer shorts back into place, ignoring the wetness dripping onto them. His hands ached to move, the circulation gone, and he flexed them a few times, then looked at his wrists. Livid bruises rose up where the edges of the leather had rubbed him raw, with thin, angry cuts at the base, weeping blood. He winced, and turned to Nii.

“I don't think the belt was a good idea..”

“Oh, well.”

That wasn't right. Hakkai began to shake – this wasn't what Nii usually did. Nii would kiss the cuts and bruises he'd left behind, then give Hakkai a good squeeze until he fell asleep from exhaustion. He wanted to be held, _Gojyo would hold him, Gojyo enjoyed holding him,_ he wanted to be reassured. Once he was no longer held in place, he still wanted to belong. Hakkai reached out for Nii, but Nii pulled his shirt back over his slumped shoulders, chuckling, shaking his head. A chill shot through Hakkai like a bolt. “Why are you laughing?”

“You. You're funny. Sitting there like you want me to come over there, after all this time pushing me away.” Nii buttoned his shirt, then grabbed his cigarettes from his jacket pocket and lit one up, sucking down the first rush of smoke fast. Hakkai's hands began to shake again.

“I... I thought...”

“Yeah, you thought wrong. I told you, I didn't come here to rekindle our _romance._ ” He smirked around the cigarette in the corner of his mouth. “I came here to remind you who you really belong to.”

Hakkai felt a crack split what was left of his heart. _No._ “You... I... I trusted you...”

“Funny, you. You said you were nothing like me.” Nii blew another smoke ring, then ashed his cigarette onto the area rug. “I'm sure your Gojyo trusted you. My, how the tables turn.”

Hakkai felt everything fall out from beneath him, and he gripped the cushion with both hands like a life raft on a churning ocean. “Y... you...”

“Oh, those pictures? Hah, I have no idea what was happening.” Nii's grin showed teeth now, but unlike Gojyo's confident toothy grin, this was all malice. “A student of mine has been watching the pair of you. He saw that particular interaction. He even made a point of telling me that he was telling the blond guy off, and the blond guy was trying to kill him, not kiss him. Whoever he is, I owe him a beer, because clearly, he was just the bait I needed to lure your old demons out.” Hakkai gripped the fabric tighter, feeling it warp between his fingers.

_Gojyo's done nothing wrong._

“And really, I thought you'd stopped trusting me.” He smirked sideways at Hakkai, pacing slowly as he enjoyed his smoke. “You learned, you'd said. You had the perfect lesson.” Nii spread a hand, gesturing. “It was in this very room, wasn't it?”

Hakkai cringed, because yes, and he should have known better...

_It was January. Snow was falling. Kanan was seated on his right side, smiling and holding his hand: “I'm pregnant.”_

_Hakkai had jerked with surprise, jostling Nii, who sat on his other side, his eyes wide with intrigue, and Nii recovered to speak first: “My goodness, what a surprise. I had no idea you were seeing anyone.”_

“ _Kanan,” Hakkai choked. He'd fretted since she'd come home, because she'd been complaining of her stomach and sick, but he'd never expected_ _this_ _. She laughed nervously and let her face fall._

“ _I, ah, I'm not.” She withdrew her hand from Hakkai's and wrung her fingers in front of her.”I, ah... Oh, Hakkai, you'll hate me.”_

“ _Never, never,” he whispered, and she covered her blushing cheeks with her palms._

“ _I, er, I think I may have overindulged at a visit to a friend's house over Thanksgiving break, and I have no memory of what happened after a certain point in the night.” She laughed again, her throat tight. “I woke up the next morning with a few bruises. I think... I think...”_

_Hakkai reached out and gripped her hand again. “We can terminate. It's not too late. If you want to find out who would take advantage of an intoxicated girl, then we can use the DNA evidence from that and--”_

“ _I want to keep it.” Kanan squeezed his hands back, her face crimson and her eyes suddenly wet. “It's... it's a little life, isn't it? I want it to have a chance.”_

“ _But--!” Hakkai's panic churned in his chest. “Kanan, this--!”_

“ _We'll help you,” Nii offered, and he reached over to rest a hand over hers. “We can't make this choice for you, can we, Hakkai?”_

_Hakkai swallowed. “But... The curse...”_

_This sobered Kanan a little, but she shook her head. “It's a risk I'm willing to take. Our mother survived long enough to give us life. Perhaps it won't come for me.”_

“ _Curse?” Nii had raised an eyebrow, and Hakkai bit his lip._

“ _It's...”_

“ _A hereditary condition,” Kanan answered, then stood up abruptly. “But I'm not scared of it. I can't live life second-guessing myself at every turn.” She smiled at the pair of them. “But I want to try and adjust my semester for remote classes, so I can stay here. Is that alright?”_

“ _Of course.” Hakkai jumped up and took her hand again. “Whatever you want.” He kissed the back of her hand and squeezed, and she squeezed back._

“ _I thought... perhaps you'll be happy helping raise your niece or nephew with me. We don't have very much family.” Hakkai's heart swelled at the thought._

“ _I'll love them more than I do you, Kanan.”_

_He thought he heard Nii chuckling behind him. He knew it was a silly thought. He should have known it was nothing but a pipe dream that would drain into a nightmare._

_Kanan was sick for weeks, every morning, every day. Hakkai did everything he could for her, even when school started again and he had to bury himself in his books. He was still looking over the edge of the page at her as she, always ashen unless she had a cup of his tea (loaded with mint and lemon to whet her appetite and ginger to settle her stomach) under her nose, struggled to focus on her studies. She needed him, and he loved to feel needed, but he was laced with worry every time she failed to force herself to eat, every time she rejected food. He bent for her every whim, and hadn't even the capacity to enjoy it._

“ _I should be jealous,” Nii said once, as he was finishing lacing Hakkai up with the good silk rope. “Always fawning over her. I'd think you preferred her to me.”_

“ _She's never done this with me,” Hakkai laughed, then flexed against the knots. Just tight enough. “She's my only sister, and she's not well. You're different, dear.” Nii chuckled and tugged the rope a little tighter._

“ _Forget her for now.” Nii claimed his mouth in a deep kiss, then whispered against his tongue, “Here, you're mine, and you don't need to worry.”_

_If only it were so easy._

_Kanan collapsed one day, out of nowhere. She had been talking to him in the kitchen, everything completely normal, but suddenly her eyes rolled back in her head and she fell to a heap, her nose bleeding, and Hakkai couldn't grab her before she hit the floor. He called 911 in a tizzy and helped her onto the ambulance gurney, his fear running his tongue as he spoke: “She's pregnant. Twelve weeks. You need to perform a sonogram on her uterus and ovaries.”_

_The nurses didn't listen to him at first, saying that fainting was normal in the first trimester, the most she had to worry about was a mild concussion from the fall. When he became upset, they pointedly ignored him. It was Kanan, ever his voice of reason, that was able to get what she wanted: “I'm worried about my baby. Can I please see him?”_

_Nii held Hakkai's hand as the tech performed the sonogram, as the tech went white and dropped the wand, as Kanan's face fell. “Don't tell me,” both twins said from opposite ends of the room, Hakkai fraught with fear, Kanan despondent._

_The tech brought a doctor, and they waited for two long, tense hours for them to return. He had to tell them. Someone had to. The doctor showed them what the tech had seen: a mass on Kanan's left ovary the size of a walnut. “We'll need to operate and perform a biopsy, but I'm concerned of the risk to the fetus--”_

“ _I'm concerned for the risk to my sister!” Hakkai's voice cracked, and he clutched at Nii's hand and chest, waiting for Nii to grab him back, to reassure him. Nii's touch never came, and the doctor, again, ignored him (likely too used to frantic family members blowing things out of proportion). Kanan couldn't look the doctor in the eye but spoke with practiced calm:_

“ _We should act sooner rather than later.” Her knuckles were white, her grip on the sheets vise-tight. “The women in our family – every woman on my mother's side, for three generations – has developed cancer shortly after conceiving.” She managed a weak smile, one she didn't at all mean, as her joke arrived stillborn: “It's the family curse. It took our mother. She died here a day after giving birth to us.”_

_After a cursory review of their mother's files, Kanan was quickly scheduled for surgery, and the mass was removed and analyzed. Hakkai wasn't sure he breathed for the two hours between Kanan being put under anesthetic and when she woke up, her hand already touching the tiny scar._

“ _Perhaps,” she'd whispered, “that's the end of that.” She'd smiled, Hakkai had smiled back, and both of them knew they were lying in word and action._

_He'd needed to lie if he was going to go on at all._

_The results came back a week later: the mass was cancer. Malignant. Fast-moving. They wanted to perform radiation therapy to ensure it was gone, but they couldn't while she was pregnant. Kanan agreed to terminate, but begged the hospital to release the remains to her so they could bury it properly. Hakkai purchased three cemetery plots. Kanan's child, still too small to be determined male, female, or neuter, was buried on the far left. They'd always planned to figure out what he or she would have been called to mark a stone, but never did._

_Radiation and grief made Kanan sicker, leaving Hakkai a constant wreck trying to care for her and keep up with his school work at the same time. It also didn't work. Hakkai's grades began to slip, and when Kanan was examined after six weeks of treatment, the cancer was on her right ovary. In her uterus. The muscles around her belly. Her liver. Her spinal cord. Her brain. It was too much._

_Kanan was given a month to live._

_Hakkai offered to drop out of school right then, over Nii's objections: “You will have to have a life after her, you know.” He hadn't been aggrieved at Kanan's diagnosis, and Hakkai tried to take his words as grounding, but he could only try to clutch on tight to his ruined world. Kanan, too encouraged him:_

“ _Just because my story will end soon doesn't mean yours will.” Tears streamed down her face, as she forced her smile for him. “You deserve a happy ending.”_

_Her encouragement gave him the strength to reach his hand out and take hers where she lay in her hospital bed. “So do you.” He willed himself to smile for her. “I'll make this last month of your life as happy as I can.”_

_Treatment was no longer curative, it was palliative, but just like before, it didn't help. Kanan faded quickly in hospice, her legs failing as the cancer ruined her abdominal muscles and spine, her appetite dying. She would eat his cake because it was the only thing that tasted good to her anymore, and it was the only thing that made him happy._

_Nii seemed disgusted with him. He'd always been annoyed at the close bond they'd shared, always a little jealous, but Hakkai tried to help him understand: their bond was of love, of family, they were two halves of a whole, and Hakkai was watching his other half fade. Nii could only retort that “Usually, one's lover is their other half.” Hakkai, distressed and upset, couldn't compose a reply, only:_

“ _Kanan is more to me than any lover ever could be.”_

_Hakkai had known it was coming, sure as a sunset. Kanan couldn't eat enough to nourish herself, she became sick if she ate more than a few bites, and soon became reliant on a nutrient drip. She was fully bedridden, and began to sleep more and more. Then, after a month, she didn't wake: alive, but no longer able to function. Too much of her mind had been damaged. She wouldn't wake again._

_"Whenever you're ready, we can end her life peacefully." The doctor had, over Kanan's comatose form, given him papers to sign, and they seemed so simple. An authorization to end life support. Hakkai wondered what would claim her first: suffocation, her lungs too weak to fill on her own or her mind too broken to operate them, starvation, her skeletal body already depleted, or the simple failure of her heart to continue to beat without him to keep it beating._

_He'd refused to sign. "She'll pass naturally on life support, will she not? I will do nothing to kill my sister."_

_He still visited her daily, spending every hour he could with her when he wasn't struggling through classes he was too distracted to study for. He was certain he only saw Nii in passing. Nii wasn't with him when he was with Kanan. Even when sleeping in the same bed, Hakkai couldn't feel Nii's presence. He had nobody else left to turn to; he'd quarreled with Toudai and Koumyou and refused to speak with them, he'd told Sanzo they couldn't be friends if Sanzo refused to accept his relationship with Nii, and he'd never had anyone else. Perhaps that was why he couldn't let go of Kanan, why every time he let go of her hand, he was sure he'd left another piece of himself in her that he'd never get back._

_Then, that fateful morning came..._

“You thought it was an accident.” Nii ashed on Hakkai's carpet again. “No, you thought it was an opportunity I claimed. I could have waited, but no.” Nii smirked, and Hakkai, still buried against the sofa, shivered as if his very bones had frozen. “Here's the part you didn't know...”

_Nii dialed the number quietly, the phone screen dim in the gray light from the bedroom window, as Hakkai frantically dressed and gathered his books, combing his hair and brushing his teeth at the same time as he rushed through his morning routine. He cradled the phone close as it rang, but his call picked up quickly: “Mountainside General, Hospice Department.”_

“ _Good morning. My name is Nii Jianyi, I'm Hakkai Cho's partner – I'm calling about his sister, Kanan Cho.” Nii paused, licked his lips, and exhaled slowly. “He's prepared to let her pass on.” Nii heard the nurse rifling through some papers._

“ _I... I know how difficult of a decision this is, but I'll need Mister Cho's consent.”_

“ _He asked me to call for a reason.” Nii glanced over his shoulder towards the bathroom, as Hakkai hurriedly toweled his hair. “It's very difficult for him. He can hardly bring himself to say it, though he knows it's time to let go of her.”_

“ _I understand completely. If Mister Cho can just give verbal consent, we will pull life support.”_

“ _Very well then, give me a moment to help him compose himself.” Nii muted the call, then spoke quietly. “Hakkai.” Hakkai made a noncommittal, questioning sound. “Hakkai,” he repeated, imperceptibly louder, then again, a little louder each time, “Hakkai. Hakkai. Hakkai. Hakkai. Hakkai.”_

_Hakkai finally spun on his heel, and Nii unmuted the phone and held it towards him. “Yes?”_

_Nii shook his head, mouthing, “Sorry, nothing,” then turned back to the call. “Sorry, he's a bit distracted. You must understand...”_

“You told me,” Hakkai choked, “that they'd called you. They'd said she was getting worse. You said you had asked me. You said you thought I knew what you'd asked me.”

“I lied. You got predictable. Your impeccable manners were the death of you – rather, of her.” Nii clicked his tongue and shook his head, a tacit 'for shame,' as Hakkai clapped both hands over his mouth with horror. Nii sighed with mock exasperation. “You should have been ashamed of yourself. You faked smiles for her, after telling me you never felt the need to. It was wanton and disgusting. I did you a favor. I made you honest.”

_When Hakkai arrived, the drumming rain of the day soaking his jacket and dripping from his hair, Kanan's bed was surrounded by nurses, and there were fewer tubes in her arms. He ran in, heart racing, and realized with horror that her heartbeat was slowing down. One of the nurses took his hand. “You made it in time. Her pain will be over soon. Do you want us to call anybody else to be with her?”_

_After that, it was pure panic. Hakkai remembered nothing of what was said, only plaintive pleas not to let her go, that she wasn't ready, that he wasn't ready, he didn't want her to die, the sound of the rain vibrating him to his soul. He had to be restrained, but mercifully, they let him grip her hand through his panic as she faded. He felt her squeeze his hand one last time before the heart monitor flatlined, and he knew absolutely nothing but the droning roar of the rain for days._

_Somewhere in the haze of memory, Nii had been holding his hand too, murmuring, “From dust we came, to dust we return, right? She's nothing now, and there's no pain for her anymore.”_

_If that was meant to be comforting, it wasn't. Hakkai had been numb to it. He'd felt nothing about it. He did, however, clearly remember Kanan's funeral._

_Somehow, he'd made it to the church Grandmother had taken them to when they were small. The rain had stopped for a little while, the ground drying enough that Kanan could be laid in the middle plot of those Hakkai had bought, leaving the plot on the far right open for him to fall into. Someone had made him put on a suit (he couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten, bathed, looked in a mirror, it was a miracle he'd dressed at all). The deacon had shuttered him in a vestibule where he could greet the mourners who had come for Kanan -- her high school friends, college friends who had made the trip, teachers, those who'd loved her (nobody as much as he did). They all shook his hand and told him how sorry they were for his loss, how much they were going to miss her. He repeated "thank you," though he hardly felt his mouth move. Then came Koumyou and Toudai. Koumyou rushed to him and threw his arms around him as if they'd never argued, Toudai's big hand fell on his back, and he heard Sanzo whispering his condolences, surprisingly sincere words that Hakkai would never remember, and something in him broke in that instant, letting loose a deluge of tears, and he cried like he hadn't since he was an infant._

_Someone,_ _ someone _ _was with him. He wasn't alone. He heaved broken sobs into Koumyou's chest, hard, unstoppable, lung-wracking gasps that shook his very core. He'd lost everything, but at least he could have this, even if it only lasted a moment._

_Why hadn't anyone else given him this?_

_As if he were speaking from Hakkai's own head, Hakkai heard Sanzo: "Why aren't you comforting him?"_

_"I tried," Nii responded from somewhere close (slumped on the old sofa against the wall of the alcove, had he been there all along?). "He hasn't talked to me. I thought he was dealing with it."_

_Hakkai shivered against Koumyou, frozen to the floor but able to turn his eyes towards Sanzo and Nii, only able to watch and listen as Sanzo fixed Nii with a glare. "He's obviously not. You should be doing something."_

_"What, exactly? It's not like you've ever dealt with this sort of thing." Nii's face curled into a sneer, and Hakkai found himself tightening his hand into a fist – even here, even now, he couldn't resist goading Sanzo? "Hakkai knew that this was going to happen. He needs to let go."_

_That was enough to break Hakkai's silence, his voice quavering forth unbidden: "I wasn't ready for her to go. She didn't have to... She didn't..."_

_Nii heaved a sigh and clicked his tongue, but made no motion to get up. "It's unfortunate, but it happened, and it's over."_

_"Hakkai." Koumyou spoke softly to him, against his cheekbone, but even such a soft touch scraped at his heart now. "You did make the decision to end life support, and I know that was difficult--"_

_"I did no such thing," Hakkai sobbed back, and Koumyou came up short._

_"Then why--"_

_"He did," Nii answered, hitting Hakkai with a meaningful look. "I told you what they were saying on the phone. She was getting worse and they wanted to remove her from life support. You agreed."_

_Hakkai didn't remember saying yes. "I... I didn't..."_

_"Then you should have listened closer." Nii heaved himself to a stand. "You knew it was time to let her go. It was in your best interest."_

_"No!" Hakkai shoved past Koumyou. "It would have been best if I could have kept her! You, you heartless--" He swallowed his heart, hard, feeling it burn like acid in his chest, his pain shredding out from his guts and soul, his temper spilling over. "How can you -- how can you talk like it's so easy?!"_

_"Because it is." Nii tapped his head. "It all means nothing in the end, sweetheart. We come from it, we go back to it, and that's it. I told you, she's gone and won't have to live in pain. You were selfish to hold on as long as you did."_

_Toudai sputtered, and Koumyou barely managed to lash his arm around Toudai's to keep him from lunging at Nii. "Why, you little--"_

_"She was all I had!” Toudai's threat died at Hakkai's anguished cry. “Why couldn't you understand, she was my only family, she was the only one who ever loved me!” His lungs ached as the words tore everything else out on the way out, as good as eviscerating him. “You! You don't! You care about nothing!”_

_Nii chuckled to himself, but put a hand over his chest. “You wound me. Why do you say it like it's a bad thing? I've tried to show you, if you take things as they come and don't hold on too tight, you won't have to deal with the pain of losing it. Muichimotsu.” Nii snapped a finger towards Koumyou. “Koumyou could have taught you that. That's Buddhism. Here's a little more: Life is suffering.”_

“ _Ken'yuu, please do not exploit the precepts of my religion.” Koumyou kept Toudai back, his lean arm the only barrier between Nii and Toudai's clenched fists, but his gaze hit Sanzo for a moment before he leaned in to speak to Hakkai again. “Life is only suffering if you let it—”_

“ _I am done with suffering! You, you tricked me!” Hakkai drew himself up, towering over Nii. “I thought you understood me. Understood what it was like to have nobody else who understood you. I thought we were alike, and it sickens me to know how wrong I was!” Sanzo grabbed his arm, muttering something about how they were in a church, to stop, to calm down, but Hakkai was three steps past the point of no return, all of his barriers broken. “You never liked her, so you took her away! You never understood, and I'm_ _nothing_ _like you.” He heaved for air, as Nii, wide-eyed but smiling with amusement, held both hands up._

“ _You're letting your emotions get the better of y--”_

“ _I'm done with you! I'm done with being restrained, being held at arm's length – I'm done with letting you hurt me!” Hakkai took a swing at Nii, but this time, Koumyou and Toudai both moved to hold him back. “You stole her! You ruined me! I,” he gasped for air, feeling himself fall apart even as Nii stepped back, and the tears flooded back when words didn't come. “I never... want to see you again... Never...” He let himself break against Koumyou again, crumbling to pieces with nothing to hold him together. Nii merely sighed._

“ _I have no reason to cease our relationship. You're making a rash--”_

_Sanzo stepped up. “Get the fuck out.” Hakkai heard Nii's footsteps as he retreated, blinded by tears. He was blacking out between heaving breaths, scraping for something to hold on to, until Koumyou began to whisper in his ear:_

“ _Take a deep breath in, hold it there... breathe out slowly...”_

_The exercise only gave him time to set his grudge in stone..._

Hakkai tried to take a deep breath, as Nii gloated over him, but all he could do was sink down further into the gloom and despair of the room, darkened by a storm gathering around them. “You stole her,” he repeated in a broken whisper. God, he knew Nii, he should have known better. “And you knew it. You did it on purpose--”

“I did you a favor.” Nii heaved a contented little sigh, looking all too smug and pleased with himself, and Hakkai's second wind roared through him:

“You filthy liar!”

“You lied to yourself.” Hakkai's last gust of strength was rebuffed at Nii's wall, his oozing, sickly self-confidence, and Nii strode forward and grabbed onto Hakkai's wrist. “You're a hypocrite, as possessive as I am, and really, it's not like I'm the only person in the room who's betrayed my lover's trust.” Nii squeezed at the weeping gash on Hakkai's wrist, and pain stung through Hakkai, though whether it was the cut or Nii's barb, he couldn't tell. He sucked his lips in, refusing to give Nii even an ounce more satisfaction, but Nii tore at the livid little cut and dropped Hakkai's hand. “I've gotten what I wanted and taught you one last lesson. I think I'm done.” He grinned, but Hakkai refused to give him the satisfaction of an answer. Nii clicked his tongue and sighed. “And honestly, you've come to bore me with your fake, hollow smiles.” He rose to a stand and turned on his heel for the door. “But I guess I can now say you have at least one thing in common with your dear sister.” He threw one last smirk, and one last barb: “You were both much more interesting with your clothes off.”

The door shut. Nii was gone, and Hakkai felt the last vestiges of his strength crumble away.

He bolted for the bathroom and retched until nothing came out but bile, Ryuu crying at his heels as he gripped the toilet bowl and tried to force the poison out. It didn't help, he felt tainted, defiled, ruined. Even Ryuu's plaintive cries scraped at his soul, but he couldn't bring himself to shoo him off. He couldn't touch him, didn't want to touch himself.

“I'm filthy.” His voice was nothing but a rasp, and he instinctively rose, tearing at the pants he'd haphazardly dragged back on and throwing them at the wastebasket. He ignored the blood staining his boxer shorts and stumbled into the shower, then turned the water on as hot as it would go.

He scrubbed his skin in the searing water until it went raw, until the water went cold, time vanishing in flashes of black and white. His wrists were still bleeding. He was shaking from the cold, but it didn't matter that the water was freezing. It was from the inside out.

When he did emerge from the shower, hair still dripping and water drying on his bruised skin, he couldn't bear to look at the room, only seeing Nii, what he and Nii had done there, the years of memories. This room, this home was ruined too. He could never scour it all away.

He had to try.

Nii's cigarette ashes were still visible on the surface of the carpet, and Hakkai vacuumed mindlessly until even his imagination wasn't seeing streaks of gray. The pillowcase was ruined, and Hakkai tore it off and discarded it, wondering if he could maybe replace it. Then, he wondered if he should bother, if it mattered, nothing seemed to matter.

He sank back onto his loveseat, huddled in the corner of it, and tried to look at the livid purple bruises on his wrists. He stared at the thin lines of blood, wondering how long they would bleed. Maybe long enough that they wouldn't hurt anymore, that nothing would. He already felt as if Nii had eviscerated him.

Worse, he knew that he had to tear the last of himself out by his own hand.

* * *

Gojyo put his car in park without tilting his head from his shoulder so the phone wouldn't be jostled. “He hand-delivered it, huh?”

The property manager's office assistant didn't answer for a moment, and Gojyo pinned his shoulders to the back of his seat and waited. “Er.” She sounded stunned. “He did, yes. A flashdrive, absolutely full of...”

“You're looking at it.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, his shoulders hunching towards his ears.

“Not anymore.” He heard a mechanical click on the assistant's end of the line. “This is pretty plain blackmail, and while it's, er, interesting, it won't affect our contract. You have nothing to worry about.” Gojyo sighed his relief.

“Thanks, miss.” He opened the car door. “Could you do me a favor and just mail that to me? I'd love to see what exactly he's spreading around.”

She agreed easily, and Gojyo hung up and turned to face Hakkai's door. The next part would be the hardest.

Hakkai's door was unlocked, which wasn't unusual, but something was missing when he did push the door wide. No welcoming food smell. As if Hakkai weren't here. Gojyo felt a frisson of anxiety as he stepped in and quickly spotted Hakkai, curled with his knees to his chest in the corner of the sofa. His hair was wet, his glasses were askew, and though Ryuu was meowing at his feet, Hakkai wasn't looking at him. Something was very wrong. Shit, was he too late?

Gojyo shut the door and hung his jacket on the rack (the way Hakkai would when he wasn't looking), then sat down next to him. Hakkai pulled his knees in tighter, closer, and Gojyo winced. He wanted to reach out and take Hakkai's hands, but he had them buried in his lap, so instead, Gojyo steeled himself and spoke. “We gotta talk.”

Whatever Hakkai might have said, what he actually said was the last thing Gojyo could have ever expected: “I slept with my ex.”

The pit of Gojyo's stomach dropped out, and everything flashed black and white in his vision. “Uh.”

“I was upset,” Hakkai continued, not making eye contact, not even lifting his face. “I was upset, he was here, you weren't, he convinced me, and I slept with him. It's no excuse.” Hakkai sucked in a breath and buried his chin in his chest. “I have no intention of lying about it, and I am making no excuses for my behavior. I betrayed you. I'm sorry, Gojyo.”

All of the air had been sucked out of the room at once. Gojyo couldn't breathe. “I... so you...”

“I don't know what else to say.” Hakkai was shaking now, and Gojyo flinched. Hakkai had never looked so small to him, he'd been the mature, composed one between them. Now, he was twisting the cuffs of his sweater around his wrists and squeezing them tight, too tight. “I have no excuses, and I refuse to hold you somewhere where you will be hurt.” His eyes were wide and unfocused, the corners of his lips trembling as his mouth worked sloppily around the words. "I'm, I'm sorry, I'm so, so--"

Gojyo knew he had to take over. He had to be strong enough to handle this. He put a hand on Hakkai's knee. "It's okay." He swallowed thickly, but kept up a smile. "That's fine." He patted Hakkai's knee, then withdrew his hand. "I understand. If you wanna be happy with someone else, I don't want to stand in your way." Hakkai was unconsciously shaking his head, still mouthing breathy apologies, unable to even attempt eye contact. Gojyo slowly stood, taking in the room for what would be the last time. The cool, soothing colors, the comfortable den furniture, the place that had felt like home because he was sharing it with someone who held a huge claim over everything he was. He wondered if he should leave a stone here, some sort of monument for Hakkai's knick-knack shelf, in memoriam of how much of him would be left behind. "I'll, uh, get my clothes out of your drawer."

Hakkai didn't say anything, didn't make a move to follow him. Gojyo wasn't sure what else more he could say without everything he'd swallowed spewing back.

He gathered all of his things, stacked them up as best he could into a sloppy pile, and carried them down. He would have asked Hakkai for a plastic bag or something, but he knew Hakkai only had reusables. The thought of asking Hakkai for anything else burned his tongue raw, let alone ever laying eyes on him again. He stopped at the door, feeling Hakkai watch him though he had barely moved from where he huddled up. He tried to open the door, but something was weighing him down, keeping him here, if only for one more second.

He'd never gotten the chance to lay out the truth for Hakkai, to explain himself.

"Hey." He couldn't look at Hakkai, and let his face fall to where his palm rested on the doorknob. "If I can ask... what did I do wrong?"

Hakkai choked, then whispered, "Nothing."

Gojyo pushed the door open and left, threw his clothes into his car, and dropped himself into the driver's seat, then let his forehead fall into the wheel. For a long moment, he didn't know what to do with himself. He wanted to scream, to break something, to run back and demand Hakkai tell him what he'd done wrong, why he was being left again, why he didn't even deserve to know what he'd done so wrong. He pounded his fist on the dashboard, wishing it were his own chest and maybe he could reach in, seize his heart from his own engine block, take it apart and tinker with it until it worked right again. He couldn't. Nothing he did would have made a difference.

No, he knew what the problem was, he knew it all along. He'd been looking for a sign that he'd been on the right path, that he was doing right. This was his sign, alright. This was proof that he was still a fuck-up, and completely beyond repair.

Even as he tried to shut out the heartache and turned for his empty little house, he knew he had no idea what he was going to do next. So he moved forward, leaving his entire heart in his wake. He didn't want it anymore.

 


	36. No Idea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanzo learns and must decide how to apply a very important lesson.
> 
> TRUST ARC - PART 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter includes an explicit mention of sexual activity, as well as acts that may be considered child abuse, including gaslighting.

**36: No Idea**

Something felt off. Sanzo couldn’t place what it was, but stepping out of the bakery that evening under an overcast sky, walking towards his car, lighting up his first smoke of the night, it all felt wrong. He had this constant, nagging, itchy sensation that he’d missed something, like some small cog had come loose in the clockwork framing of the universe and now the whole thing was ticking wrong. He knew he’d done everything he was supposed to, what could possibly be wrong?

He tried to mull it over as he walked the block towards where he’d parked today, tried to think of some task forgotten, some habit skipped, some favor he’d promised Koumyou (or that Koumyou had forced him to agree to, one or the other), but nothing came to mind. Perhaps it was the slight sense of wrongness he’d been feeling off of Hakkai, but he hadn’t talked to Hakkai today. Perhaps that was it. He paused and took his cell out (ignoring the messages of happy emoticons he’d gotten from Goku) and went to text Hakkai the evening numbers, but just as he pulled up the POS system, he got a text message from an unfamiliar number – no text, just an attachment. It was morbid curiosity that convinced him to check this message first.

His phone displayed a photograph of Hakkai, on his knees on his sofa, wrists bound with a belt, naked, skin flushed red, and with obvious handprints on his bare backside and thighs and a stream of ejaculate running down his back. Sanzo choked on his smoke. “Son of a bitch!” He dialed the number, and the other end picked up on the first ring. “What the fuck, Gojyo, that’s not fucking–”

“Oh, has Gojyo shared his treasure with you before?” All of Sanzo’s heat and bluster was smothered in an instant, as Nii answered instead. “It’s a shame for you, then, since I’m fairly certain Hakkai won’t be sharing any of that ever again.”

Sanzo’s cigarette fell from his mouth, and he superheated from cold shock to his temper boiling over. “You son of a bastard, what did you do?!”

“I decided to close up my unfinished business with my ex.” Sanzo’s shoulders tensed, the bones in his back and spine all tensing up. How could Nii sound so fucking nonchalant?! The very thought of Hakkai going back to Nii was pure insanity!

“What the fuck does that mean?!”

“I wasn’t done with him. Now, I am.” Nii chuckled, _as if any of this were funny_. “One last lesson in _muichimotsu_.”

Sanzo’s insides roiled with rage, but he tempered his fury enough to merely growl, “You’re a bastard,” rather than screaming it. “I have no idea how you convinced Hakkai to sleep with you again, but what the fuck are you talking about, _muichimotsu_? You’re terrible at letting go. You obviously nursed your stupid grudge long enough to come back and fuck with him one more time, who the fuck are you to talk about holding nothing?”

“Ah, I don’t need lectures from you, little Kouryuu.” Nii sounded as bored with him as one might listening to a discussion of one’s own fingernails. “After all, I’m not the one wasting my time thinking about things like _committing._ ” Sanzo felt like his collar had been jerked, hard. “Thinking about your future, Kouryuu? Thinking about setting down roots here and setting up to just coast 'til you croak?” Nii laughed through his nose, and Christ, Sanzo could just picture him sneering into his collar. He stomped hard, imagining Nii’s smirking mug was underfoot.

“How the fuck do you know what I’m thinking?” His voice was hardly a hiss, and he hoped others walking nearby couldn’t hear him.

“What does it matter? You haven’t learned yet, baby brother, nothing turns out the way you think it will. I tried to teach you, in a much gentler way than I’d been taught, little Kouryuu. Nothing works the way you think, and oh, how quickly things change.”

Sanzo ground his teeth together at the sound of his name, because he still remembered, still loathed every time Nii said it…

“ _Kouryuu, come here.” Kouryuu had followed Ken'yuu into the kitchen, toddling knee-high to his nearly-grown big brother, stumbling in the wake of his long strides. Ken'yuu whistled and beckoned Kouryuu as he opened the refrigerator. Kouryuu scampered over to join him, then pointed at the bottle of soda._

“ _Wan’ that. Can I have it?”_

“ _Dad’ll be mad if I give you that, don’t fuss.” Ken'yuu winked and stuck his tongue out at Kouryuu as he whined, then rummaged through the refrigerator. “But he said to give you a snack. You wanna snack, little Kouryuu?”_

“ _Mhm.” Kouryuu nodded, his yellow hair bobbing, and Ken'yuu found a white box. Kouryuu’s heart leapt. Papa’s peach buns! “Gimme!”_

“ _So impatient.” Ken'yuu chuckled, but opened the box and picked one out. “These are special, okay? Don’t tell Dad. Say ‘ahh.'” Kouryuu opened his mouth wide, and Ken'yuu put something on his tongue. Kouryuu bit down and chewed, but something was immediately wrong. It wasn’t the chewy, tasty mochi dough, there was no cloyingly sweet peach-paste middle. Instead, there was a crunch, waxy and crisp skin, and then, his mouth **burned.**_

“ _AHH!” Kouryuu cried out and spat out something bright red and green, but his mouth and tongue were still on fire. Ken'yuu had half of a peach bun in his hand and laughed as Kouryuu screamed and wailed at the heat on his tongue._

“ _I never said you were going to have it. Dad likes you to have vegetables, right? That’s one of Papa’s jalapeno peppers. Can you say 'jalapeno,’ little Kouryuu?” Kouryuu couldn’t answer, still screaming and screaming…_

Every time Ken'yuu had said his name.

_Koumyou invited Ken'yuu along to help with shopping for Kouryuu’s first grade uniform, though likely it was to help keep an eye on Kouryuu for when Koumyou inevitably met someone he knew and got absorbed into an unavoidable catch-up conversation. Ken'yuu and Kouryuu had been waiting outside of the shoe store next to one of the pillars for nearly twenty minutes while Koumyou chatted with some women he knew, Kouryuu dutifully holding the bags, and Ken'yuu flipping through a pocket-sized book. Out of nowhere, Ken'yuu slapped his own forehead, making Kouryuu jump._

“ _Kouryuu!” Ken'yuu spun around and bent over, still hovering over Kouryuu and close to his face. “Kouryuu, I just realized, I left my chocolate in the book store! I bought a bar of chocolate, and I was going to share it with you, but I left the bar in the shop.”_

_Kouryuu felt a sting of suspicion, but he bit his lip. He did love chocolate, but… “What kind?”_

“ _The one right by the cash register, with the almonds.” Ken'yuu quickly grabbed the bags from Kouryuu then motioned for him to go with a flip of his fingers. “I’ll hold the bags and stay here, can you run over and get it for me?”_

_Kouryuu nodded and hurriedly toddled off. The book store wasn’t far, Dad probably wouldn’t miss him, and, of course, chocolate was delicious. He shuffled right to the cash register past all of the books, took the chocolate bar and held it up for the cashier in her green apron to see, and said, “My brother forgot this.” Then, he turned around and walked back out._

_The cashier shouted after him, “Hey, wait!” Kouryuu hadn’t wanted anything else, so he returned to Ken'yuu, but the woman kept shouting. Kouryuu ignored her, returning to Ken'yuu just as Koumyou came out of the shoe store, further bags in hand._

“ _I’m sorry that took so long!” Koumyou smiled and fluffed Kouryuu’s hair. “I hope you boys didn’t get bored without me?”_

“ _No, of course not.” Ken'yuu’s nose was back in his book, and Kouryuu was about to offer him the chocolate, when he heard footsteps running towards them, and all three turned and saw a security guard approaching with the woman from the book store._

“ _That’s him.” She pointed directly at Kouryuu. “He said something, then walked off with a five-dollar chocolate bar.”_

_Koumyou gasped, and crouched down. “Kouryuu, did you?” Kouryuu, with the chocolate bar still in hand, held it out, and was about to turn to Ken'yuu to tell him to explain, but Ken'yuu merely clicked his tongue._

“ _Ghirardelli, Kouryuu? You’ve got good taste for a kid with empty pockets.”_

_Kouryuu’s jaw fell, and Koumyou took the chocolate bar back from him and gave it to the woman._

“ _I’m terribly sorry, he’s only six, I thought he understood that one needs to exchange money for goods and services,” Koumyou began to explain, all while patronizingly patting Kouryuu’s head, and Kouryuu seethed with embarrassment._

It was worse every time.

_Kouryuu knew he was being obvious, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t have a lot of friends, so when another boy in class who wasn’t sullen, withdrawn Hakkai or his intensely sweet sister took interest in him as a friend, he found himself silently mooning over him. Even quiet afternoons studying were spent with his heart pounding in his chest, his heels bouncing under the table. His friend hadn’t seemed to notice._

_Ken'yuu had._

“ _Oh, Kouryuu.” Ken'yuu stuck his head in the kitchen, and Kouryuu arched his back as Ken'yuu wagged an eyebrow at him and his school companion. “Studying? Mind if I join in?”_

_Kouryuu could only watch helplessly as Ken'yuu seated himself next to his school friend, as Ken'yuu smirked and winked and charmed him, and in what felt like an instant, his only friend was under his brother’s spell. Sometimes Kouryuu wondered if Ken'yuu only saw him as a way to lure in guileless teenagers, as bait for a predator, or if he only enjoyed flirting Kouryuu’s friends away from him so that they would never talk to him again._

_Either way, Ken'yuu had soon distracted his friend into coming with him to get ice cream, and Kouryuu was left alone, and the next he spoke to his friend, he couldn’t look Kouryuu in the eye. Now, he was just another faceless, nameless memory that Ken'yuu had tainted into shadow._

He couldn’t even look at him without rage boiling through his lungs.

“ _Out here alone, little Kouryuu?” Kouryuu stewed when the sliding door opened and Ken'yuu emerged, grinning down at him where he crouched down against the wall. Kouryuu quickly smashed the cigarette he’d filched out of Toudai’s jacket, hoping the dark sky and the scent of Koumyou's herb garden would hide the evidence of his crimes, but Ken'yuu smirked in such a way that Kouryuu knew he had seen. Kouryuu just scoffed, his lip curling, in a practiced expression that he’d picked up after sixteen years of exasperation, frustration, and annoyance at his older brother. Tonight, though, he had worse things swirling through his mind. Ken'yuu squatted down next to him, hunched over like a particularly devious frog examining a pond, and Kouryuu sniffed and pulled his knees tight to his chest. “Dad says you got a day’s suspension for fighting. Lemme guess – the 'two dads’ thing?”_

“ _Like you care.”_

“ _Of course I care, little Kouryuu; you’re my only little brother, after all.”_

“ _As if,” Kouryuu muttered, and Ken'yuu flicked his shoulder._

“ _Louder; I’m an old man, remember?” He chuckled half-heartedly and jostled Kouryuu’s shoulder, shaking him around roughly. “Mumbling is rude.”_

“ _Whatever.” Kouryuu rolled his eyes and tried to pull his knees in tighter. Ken'yuu merely slung an unwelcome arm around his shoulders. It felt so heavy, too heavy, like one more anchor of gravity against him._

“ _Kouryuu, I’ve been there. The 'adopted’ thing, the fact that we have two fathers, it makes us stand out, and in high school, where you’re expected to conform, the nail that sticks out is the one that gets hammered down.” Ken'yuu kept his arm around Kouryuu as he took out a cigarette and flipped it to his mouth, then lit it up. “And of course, kids are dumb, and they just keep hammering and hammering at'cha, 'til even they’re sure you’re flat. The good news is.” Ken'yuu paused to drag on his cigarette, leaving Kouryuu hanging like so much drifting smoke. He blew a smoke ring to loop around the pair of them, and finished, “Eventually, they start ignoring you, if you ignore them long enough.”_

“ _Mm.” Sometimes, it was easy to forget Ken'yuu had been raised by the same parents as him. He hadn’t been with them when he was little, but they’d done what they could for him. “I guess you’re right.”_

“ _Besides, they’re not wrong.”_

_Kouryuu felt a cold, sick sensation in the pit of his gut, one that was too terribly familiar by now. He tried to move a hand to plug his ears, but Ken'yuu wasn’t letting him move his arm. “You know why they kick you around. Because you are strange. You are weird. Being adopted isn’t normal. You can’t imagine how many times I heard 'your parents didn’t love you.’ They didn’t, of course. Why else would they have gotten rid of you the way they did?” Ken'yuu chuckled again, and the icy feeling in Kouryuu’s stomach prickled, his intestines freezing solid and dying. “Perhaps that’s more me than you. I actually got in touch with the people who threw me out. Once. Yours is dead, isn’t she? No idea who one half of the equation is, but didn’t Koumyou tell you about your mother?” Ken'yuu clicked his tongue a few times, and Kouryuu squeezed his eyes shut. “So, you are strange. Other people won’t accept you. You could just accept that nobody outside of this house is going to accept you as you are and let it go, but you’re going to have to be reminded of it every day, every time you walk out those front doors, that someone’s going to be cruel to you. Just forget about them. There’s no point in trying to get attached to people like that. You might as well get used to being alone.” Ken'yuu slyly tipped his eyes back into the house, and Kouryuu shivered. “After all, someday, you will be.” He patted Kouryuu’s shoulder hard, in a failed facsimile of brotherly affection. It just made Kouryuu shake._

_Then, abruptly, Ken'yuu hopped up and called into the house, “Toudai, I’m out of smokes, can you spot me one?” Kouryuu covered his ears as he faintly heard Toudai saying his pack was in his jacket, Koumyou starting to scold him, and Toudai discovering that his pack was gone, but God, all he wanted was quiet, quiet, not to hear it anymore, even as all three of them started to shout his name…_

“Oh, Kouryuu.” Nii sighed wistfully, clicking his tongue down the line, and Sanzo clenched his fist tight, tense down his hunched spine all the way to his heels rooted on the concrete. “Didn’t you learn? I was only trying to teach you what you needed to know.”

“That the world is a miserable place and life is terrible? Fucking hell, it was because you wanted it to be that way and made it that way! You’re all twisted up over stupid shit like your fucking parents leaving you and foster care and shit, you didn’t let go of that! Fuck you, you’re just a bitter sociopath who likes fucking with people, the world is terrible because you make it that way!”

Nii didn’t respond for a moment, and Sanzo heaved, his breathing _so loud_ in his ear. The dim sky was darkening as the sun set, though the sky was beginning to clear as black ink crept up past the clouds. Then, Nii snickered. “Is that what you learned? Ah, well. So be it.” Sanzo closed his eyes tight, gripping the phone so hard he couldn’t feel his knuckles. “That’s my truth. Life is pain, love is worthless, and nothing is worth holding on to. You know as well as anyone how fast love can vanish. How is Toudai, anyway?” Nii paused, and Sanzo braced himself, glaring at the blackening sky on the horizon and letting it mute any reaction he might have wanted to have. “Ah, and how about that boy you’re seeing? Goku, isn’t it?”

That could not stand. “Stay away from him.”

“Oh, I make no promises.” Nii chuckled again, and Sanzo seethed, grinding his heels down. “But really now, Kouryuu, if things are as you want to think they are, what do you have to be afraid of?”

“Sanzo?”

That voice wasn’t on the phone. Sanzo pivoted around and found Goku on the sidewalk behind him, oil still smudging his cheek and his backpack in hand. Sanzo heard the other end of the line hang up and dropped his arm, then stared warily at Goku. Goku gawked at him – he could tell he was pale, his face felt like it had been dunked in ice water – but Sanzo tried to shake it off and approach him.

“What are you doing here?” He studied Goku’s face as Goku, frowning, seemed to do the same in return.

“Um. I work that way –” He pointed behind him. “And the bus home is this way.” He pointed down the sidewalk, then grinned. “I’m surprised you’re here this late, though. Is something wrong?”

His smile was so innocent, Sanzo almost couldn’t stand it right now. “Nii called me. Just to tell me Hakkai went back to him.”

That wiped that smile off. “Wh-what?!” Goku’s jaw dropped. “But… he…” His wide eyes were nearly wet, gaze darting to and fro like a bird panicking in a cage. “I thought… he and Gojyo…” Goku motioned vaguely, then threw his hands up. “What about Gojyo?”

“Who knows? Hopefully he has sense enough to kick Hakkai to the curb when he finds out, nobody deserves that.” Sanzo crossed his arms tight, stress tightening his jaw and making him grind his teeth. Goku shook his head with frantic horror.

“No, no way! Gojyo cares about him, a lot! Plus, Nii’s a jerk, maybe he’s lying.”

“He’s not lying.” Even thinking about the proof he’d seen made Sanzo feel a little sick under his anger.

“But…” Goku swallowed. “They’re supposed to be together.”

“So what?” Sanzo dug out a cigarette, his fingers trembling through the practiced motions, and he shook his head to himself. The tension was in his knuckles, his knees, everything, and even Goku’s presence was starting to erode at what was left of his energy. “Shit changes. Sometimes, something like that just isn’t worth holding onto. If Gojyo’s smart, he’ll let go and get over it.”

Goku bit his lip and let his gaze tip towards the ground. “No. Love changes with you. When you love someone, when you really love 'em, you change with 'em! The only reason you should stop is if they don’t change with you, and I know Gojyo, I know he can do it for Hakkai!”

“What the fuck do you even know?” Sanzo hadn’t meant for it to come out so harsh, but everything felt too raw. Even when Goku grabbed his chin and forced him to meet his eyes, knocking the cigarette from his mouth, his annoyance snapped straight to apoplexy, even as Goku said it:

“Because I’d do it for you. I love you, Sanzo.”

Oh, fuck, Sanzo couldn’t have heard that. Goku’s eyes, so bright, so determined, were drilling into him, his lips set in a thin, serious line, confidence in his stance, and Sanzo wanted to melt. He should have known, he should have thought, but he didn’t want to hear it. Everything that meant, everything that could have meant, his memories and conflicts swarmed up over him, _it can’t last, it won’t last, it’ll vanish, it’ll be snatched away from me!_ And Sanzo locked up, jaw tight, shoulders back, joints tight like they’d been drilled in place. “You have no idea what that means.”

“Yes I do!” Goku advanced another step, and Sanzo had to will himself against the urge to retreat, he couldn’t show weakness, not now. “It means I wanna stay with you, no matter what, and–”

“You have no idea!” Sanzo shoved Goku back. Hurt flashed through Goku’s expression, but Sanzo gritted his teeth. “Sure, it changes. It changes, it leaves, it dies.”

“No, dammit! Maybe sometimes, but not all the time!” Goku held his hands out towards Sanzo. “Why don’t you believe me? And if you didn’t want love – if you didn’t think you liked me like that, then why did you want to see me at all?”

Sanzo flinched, but he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“But… I care about you!” Despair tinged Goku’s voice, his eyes going wide. “Does that mean anything to you?”

Sanzo felt an ache in him, accompanied by the sudden notion that this was his turning point. Either he accepted what Goku was offering, and all the risks that came with it, or he throw it away.

He hardened his heart and made the only smart decision.

“No.”

Goku staggered back, as sure as if he’d taken a blow to the chest, but Sanzo held firm, as hard as the concrete under his shoes. Then, Goku sucked his lip in and tried to will the emotion from his face. “Fine.” He lowered his head. “Tell Mr. Koumyou and Mr. Toudai I’ll miss 'em. I won’t bother you anymore.” With that, he charged off in the direction he’d been heading, face down, arms crossed tight over his chest.

So much of Sanzo wanted to reach for him, to chase after him, to try to explain, “this is for your own good, you don’t want to learn the hard way,” but for Goku, this was probably hard enough. He wouldn’t understand. He wouldn’t want to.

His knees were shaking, his throat hurt. He wished the clouds would come back, blot out the moonless evening sky, and drown the rain that threatened to spill from his eyes and down his face, but he swallowed hard, pushed it all back, and tried to reassure himself: “Just let it go.” He shook his head and tried to turn for his car, already feeling lost.

Maybe the world really had gone crazy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm just going to add "Nii is an asshole who ruins everything" to the tags, because his presence makes any situation immensely worse.


	37. Wishing Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goku’s not sure where to go from here, but with a little guidance, maybe he can still look up.
> 
> TRUST ARC - PART 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for platonic 898, in case anyone is opposed to that.

**37: Wishing Stars**

Night fell, bleak and still. The clouds had cleared, leaving the day rainless, and hours had eaten the day like the sun had been consumed by the same worms that now ate away at what was left of Hakkai's heart where it choked in his chest. If his eyes weren’t so bleary and blurry, if his glasses hadn’t slid to the end of his nose and his own careless languish hadn’t forbidden him from fixing them, Hakkai might have seen the distant pinpricks of tiny stars through his front window, but no, he’d remained in place, unmoving, unseeing, for what had to have been hours, and all was dark. Ryuu still coiled around his feet, occasionally whining, but Hakkai shivered at the thought of touching him. He scrubbed his hands around and against one another over and over, over the cuts on his wrist that hadn’t healed and his shaking fingers, as if he could cleanse the stains that marred him, but he felt like everything he touched would be tainted forever. He might as well have sunk down under the horizon like the sun and prayed he might never emerge.

He wasn’t sure when he’d last heard anything other than Ryuu purring against his side, but at some unspoken hour, someone came to his front door and knocked. “Go away,” he whispered, knowing he wouldn’t be listened to, knowing he wouldn’t be heard. He couldn’t bear to face whoever or whatever had come for him now. Still, the knocking persisted, and Hakkai, desperate for silence, finally forced himself to rise and answer.

He’d half expected Nii, back for another hit. There had been a faint twinkle of hope that Gojyo would come back (though what Hakkai would do if he had, he didn’t know). Instead, Goku was trembling on his doorstep, a wobbly smile held fast in place, and the melting look of someone who was one wrong word away from crying. “Hey, Hakkai. Um, sorry I didn’t call, or anything, I just…” He gulped, as if trying to choke down something thick and rebellious, and his voice was gravelly when he continued, “I, um, missed the bus home, and then I kinda realized I didn’t wanna go home, ‘cause Sanzo broke up with me and–” Goku hiccuped, covered his mouth, and went on, “And, if Nataku – if my roommate sees me lookin’ upset and hears about it, then I dunno what he’ll do but I can’t go home and I dunno where else to go.”

Hakkai blinked a few times, as everything Goku said hit him. Sanzo had broken up with him? Whatever for? Despite knowing he was not worthy to be in this person’s presence, Hakkai had to do something. “Would you like me to drive you to to Gojyo’s house?”

Goku shook his head. “Gojyo’ll definitely just go beat him up if I tell him right now. I don’t want that. I promise I won’t bug you, I just don’t wanna be alone.” He fidgeted, averting his gaze. “You… you probably think I’m a jerk for coming over and inviting myself in, but please, I just need…” Goku cringed, but Hakkai shook his head. Who was he to say a word about Goku’s manners?

“No. No, it’s just…” Hakkai turned his gaze from Goku, barely able to look at him. “I… you have to know… what I did…”

Goku quickly shook his head. “Sanzo told me, but I don’t care. You must'a had a good reason, right?” Hakkai felt sick all over again, even as Goku added, softly, “You’re the only other really good friend I have.”

That sealed it. Hakkai acquiesced and stepped aside. Goku didn’t bother asking questions, but he scampered past Hakkai as if worried Hakkai might change his mind. He hung his jacket and put his shoes on the mat, and Hakkai helplessly watched as he lowered himself into the empty arm chair. For a scant moment, he wondered how Sanzo had known about what he’d done, until he realized it was surely a stupid question. Nii had told him. He could never resist an opportunity to needle at Sanzo, no matter how petty or painful. Goku wasn’t saying anything else about it, which was a mercy. Goku needed some sort of relief from his own pain, Hakkai wouldn’t want him to wrestle with his.

Ryuu had already jumped onto Goku’s lap and had gotten to the business of winding in little figure-eights on his legs and knees, purring and murring, when Goku made a tentative motion to pet him, rubbing against his palms and arms. He had been starved for attention, Hakkai faintly realized, but the follow up hit harder. “Ah, dear, I haven’t fed him. I’m so sorry, Ryuu.” His throat tightened into a knot of guilt, and he hurried over to the food bag to fill the bowl. “So sorry, so sorry,” he repeated, the words tingly and senseless, and Ryuu jumped from Goku’s lap at the rustle of paper and scampered to his bowl. Hakkai wasn’t sure what time it was, but he knew he hadn’t eaten himself, and Goku hadn’t been home, had he? “Ah, have you eaten? Were you hungry?”

Goku hummed, pressing his hands between his legs and frowning at his knees as he thought. “Umm.” He shook his head, then braved a grin. “I don’t think so. It’s like, I’m hungry, but I don’t feel like eating. Weird, right?” He cranked out a weary laugh, and slumped a little more in the armchair. Hakkai pursed his lips and shook his head. He didn’t have the energy to make a real meal, but he could do something. He returned to the kitchen to rummage through the refrigerator, but spoke up to ask:

“You said you missed the bus. How did you get here?”

“I walked.” Hakkai winced; that was a long walk. He found the jar of peanut butter. Protein, fat, and sugar, something to recharge him. He heard a faint creaking as Goku tried to settle in the chair. “It’s, um, it wasn’t that bad.”

“It’s more than four miles between there and here. It must have been quite a trek.” He put the sandwich on the plate and returned to Goku. “You need something to restore your strength.”

Goku’s cheeks pinked a little, and he graciously accepted the sandwich. “Thank you.” He took a bite, but chewing seemed difficult. He tore the sandwich in half and nudged the plate and the other hand towards Hakkai. “You should, too.”

“Ah.” Hakkai looked at it, but his stomach turned. “Perhaps later.” He settled back in his place on the sofa, neither of them bothering with the light, Goku forcing the sandwich down in silence, Hakkai without the will to talk or move again. His bones ached as if the marrow had been sucked out, and he was sure his arms still bled. Ryuu soon jumped back into Goku’s lap, and all was quiet for a while.

After a few minutes, Goku began to fidget, and soon, he tipped his gaze towards Hakkai again. “Hey, um, can I ask you something?” Hakkai said nothing, made no eye contact, but nodded. Goku bit his lip, then blurted, “How do you stop loving someone?”

Hakkai slowly closed his eyes to try and block the ache those words roused in him. Imagine, Goku coming to _him_ for such advice. “My, you’re asking me?” He at least owed Goku an honest answer, so he heaved a sigh and sat forward. “I’m afraid you don’t.” Goku slumped, crestfallen, as Hakkai pieced his thoughts back together, gesturing wearily. “When one… when one cares about someone that deeply, when you share any part of your heart and soul with someone, it’s theirs forever. You will not get it back, even if it is no longer cherished, and you will have to live with that loss.” Subconsciously, Hakkai put his hand over his own heart. Goku cringed, as Hakkai, almost possessed by the pain, stared at the empty space in front of him as if someone were still there. “You’ll be reminded, too, every time you happen to see them, hear their voice or someone who sounds like them, or catch even the faintest glimpse of those memories.” Hakkai shook his head, speaking to himself as much as Goku: “It’s the price you pay for having a heart at all. Perhaps, someday, the feeling will dull, but it will always remain.”

Goku groaned and slumped over against his legs. “I just, I don’t understand what I did wrong. Why doesn’t he want me?” He sucked in a breath and twisted his fingers into Ryuu’s mane. Hakkai had no idea what to say. “I thought we were doing alright. We had fun together! He seemed happy, and he’s so hard to make happy! But he understood me, and I thought I got him!” He threw his hands up, sucking in a deep, hard breath, then exhaling it in a rush. “And… he accepted me.” He scratched the back of his head. “He was on my side. I was on his. I wanna understand.” He scrubbed his face with his palm. “Is it something wrong with me? Was it really so wrong just to tell him how I felt?”

Hakkai did know what to say to that. “No, of course not. Goku, don’t blame yourself.” Hakkai edged a little closer to him, fixing his gaze to Goku’s shirt collar to imitate the eye contact he couldn’t manage right now. “Sometimes, it’s just not right.”

“Yeah, well, it felt right to me.” Goku pouted, casting his eyes to the floor as Ryuu jumped from his grip and skulked off. “It always did. I felt… whole.” He crossed his arms and buried his face in them, but made a big enough gap to speak through. “If I could just… stop… stop feeling this way about him, maybe I could…” He trailed off, then dared to look up again. “Does it stop hurting?”

Honesty would be best. “A bit. It dulls eventually. You become numb to it.” Hakkai smiled wryly, regret pulsing in his aching chest. “You’re meant to find new love to replace that which was lost and move on.” He swallowed, trying to be impartial, encouraging, to tell him what Koumyou had once told him: “When you love someone, and someone loves you back, they give you part of their heart and soul in return.” Hakkai found his hands clasped over his chest again, feeling some small flutter there like a bird trying to wing its way loose, and he tried to smother it, _no, no, I don’t deserve you_ , but shook his head. “It’s meant to be equal, an exchange. Given and accepted freely and openly.”

Goku, however, scowled. “I don’t wanna take anything from Sanzo. Not like that. I just…” His bit his lip; his expression softened. “I just wanted to stay with him, belong with him. I’ve never belonged to anyone, my whole life.”

Hakkai knit his brow up. “Goku…”

“See.” Goku wrapped his hands around his socked feet, unable to lift his eyes. “I spent my whole childhood in foster care, from when I was a baby. Mama said she was the one who found me left in a clothing donation box, though I dunno how much I believe her. It’d be too much of coincidence, y’know?” His sad little smile looked so wrong on his round-dumpling cheeks; he looked so _young_. Hakkai sometimes forgot that he was an adult already, but it was even harder when he was so vulnerable. “But the thing is, when you’re in foster care, you’re already an outcast, and me, I was an awkward kid. I was weird, y'know? Nobody likes the weird kid.” He rubbed his forehead against his arms. “People got nervous around me, like they thought it might hurt to touch me, like my _weird_ was catching. I tried to be nice, tried to make people happy, but, well, it just made me weirder.” He choked out a weary laugh. “I ended up the class clown, a troublemaker. Just, nobody thought I was funny.” Hakkai started to extend a hand towards Goku, but withdrew it, reminding himself _no, you don’t deserve to touch him, even if he needs it._ “Mama liked me, but Mama likes everyone, I dunno if she counts. Nataku, too, he likes me, but we took care of each other, it’s different. He’s like a brother, or a protector, just as much as he is a friend. I wanted to meet someone who didn’t know me from when I was a bratty kid and didn’t judge me on what I used to be.” He heaved a stuttering, sad sigh. “Someone who’d reach out and accept me for who I am now.”

Hakkai still didn’t know what to say, but he knew Goku was looking for something, support, reassurance, _something_. Hakkai just had nothing to give. Before Goku could say anything else, before the silence could settle, there was a light in front of the house, gleaming blue against the window, and both Hakkai and Goku looked as it flashed through the room, then faded. “Was that a car?” Goku knit his brow up, but Hakkai shook his head.

“We’re too far from the road.” He rose, knees aching, and went to the window. “Ah!” A thrill ran through him (and what a relief to feel anything other than pain), and he motioned to Goku. “Come here, come see.”

Beyond the trees, above the road, the night-black sky was illuminated by ribbons of blue and green that trailed across the sky like the tails of comets, rainbows breaking through the dark. “Aurora borealis, Goku. The Northern Lights. Have you ever seen them before?”

Goku, slackjawed, shook his head rapidly. “No, no way!”

“Ah, you see, my home faces North, and because it’s dark here, I can see them very clearly.”

“Wow!” Goku’s expression had lightened for the first time since he’d arrived, his wide, bright eyes lit with wonder. “Everywhere I’ve lived, it’s not this dark ever. Always streetlights, or cars on the road, I can’t believe I’ve never…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I wanna get a closer look!”

With that, he seized Hakkai by the hand and bolted to the front door, dragging Hakkai behind him. Hakkai dug his heels in just long enough to shut the door so Ryuu wouldn’t follow them out, but Goku ran to the middle of the lawn, past Hakkai’s garden and trees and into the dew-damp grass of the clearing, and stared straight up at the gleaming lights above. Hakkai stumbled to a stop a few steps behind him, watching the twisting, swirling lights that colored the Heavens with supernatural beauty. He’d seen it a few times as a child, his Grandmother telling him it was angels in flight, and science telling him that it was the result of an ion storm in the magnetic field of the North Pole. Goku clearly had no idea, had nobody to tell them, nobody to teach him, so his imagination chased the lights his own way:

“It’s like a rainbow!” He stretched his hands skyward. “All the stars look like little blue and green fireflies. I feel like I could grab 'em!” Hakkai found himself smiling despite himself, ardently wishing he could give Goku the reach he needed to capture that bright light in his hands, to give him something to hold on to, but when he looked at his own palms, he could still see the stains there of the sins that marred him. Goku, affixed to the sky, quietly added, “It’s like shooting stars. Like they’re all swirling around in bunches and flying free.” He clasped his hands tight over his heart. “When I was little and alone, I’d make a wish whenever I saw a shooting star.” He squeezed his palms together. “Sometimes, I’d sit up all night waiting for one, and I’d wish as hard as I could. I must’ve wished for a family to come and take me home and love me a million times.” He spun around, eyes gleaming bright under the shining night sky. “Hey, do you think I could wish for Sanzo to love me?” He pivoted back around before Hakkai could answer, squeezing his hands together tight, whispering, “Please, please, please…”

Hakkai felt a pang of empathy – _this poor child_ – and stepped forward. “Goku, I’m afraid–”

“There.” Goku unfolded his hands and let them fall to his sides. “See? Now, I know it won’t happen. Just like back then. And it can be the stars’ fault. And I can just give up and get on with my life.” His voice wound up in pitch, cracking and breaking as he turned around to face Hakkai again, his eyes still gleaming, but this time wet and brimming with tears. “And it’s gonna be okay, right?”

Hakkai still couldn’t answer, and Goku burst into chest-wracking sobs. He groped blindly forward, reaching for Hakkai, reaching for _somebody, anybody,_ and Hakkai, knowing he was the only one there, cautiously reached back. Goku fell into his open chest, and Hakkai closed his arms around him as Goku glommed on tight and wailed like a mourning widow. Not knowing what else to say, Hakkai let Goku cry into his shoulder and chest, soaking his shirt, and ran his palms down Goku’s narrow back. “There, there,” he whispered, just as his hand ran over a small bump under Goku’s clothes, a tight article of clothing. He winced, as he could only hazard a guess as to what it was and knew it wasn’t his place to ask, and hushed Goku with gentle, meaningless comfort. “It’s alright. It’s going to be alright.” Goku pounded his fist on Hakkai’s back, hiccuping and heaving out broken, gasping sobs, and squeezed on a little tighter.

Hakkai carefully ushered Goku back inside and pulled him to sit beside him on the sofa. Goku instinctively curled against him, still crying, and Hakkai held Goku’s back to his chest, clasped both of his smaller hands in his, stroked his hair, and continued to whisper kind words into his ear, knowing they wouldn’t help yet but praying that some of it might reach and soothe his wounds. He kissed the backs of his hands when Goku sobbed harder, and though Goku whispered something back, Hakkai couldn't understand it. He instead murmured, "You are more than this, and you're going to be alright," and rocked Goku against him until he quieted. When Goku finally cried himself into sleep, Hakkai couldn’t will himself to move him away. Instead, he kissed Goku on his forehead at the hairline and remained cuddled with him, then let himself slip soundlessly away.

* * *

Morning came, blunt and harsh, with the ring of his alarm. Hakkai startled awake to find the rest of the sofa empty but for Ryuu curled on the arm. A note written on a page torn from his shopping list pad had been left on the coffee table:

_“I fed Ryuu his dry food in case you forget again. I’m sorry I imposed last night, I wasn’t really thinking straight. I hope I wasn’t too embarrassing! I’ll lock the bottom lock on my way out. Sorry for leaving the deadbolt undone. Thank you for taking such good care of me. - Goku”_

He wondered what time Goku had left, because the sky was still dark. The Northern Lights were gone, and dawn was merely a distant wish. Surely, the buses weren’t running yet. "I would have given him a ride,“ he murmured to himself, but shook it off.

No matter what had happened the day before, he had a business to see to, and people were depending on him, no matter whether or not they should. He ignored the ache in his bones, his arms, his heart, and rose to face the day.

* * *

"Good morning.” The bakeshop door swung shut amid the pre-opening bustle, and Hakkai glanced out from around the oven door and past the rest of the morning bakers to see Sanzo standing in the door. Sanzo raised an eyebrow in his general direction as he demanded of the room, “We got all our ducks in a row in here? Where are the bagels?”

“Ah!” Houmei gasped from her station, already rushing to gather the baskets. “We’re getting them together now, we got bogged up somehow!”

Sanzo made a noise of disgust, but stormed off to check the inventory sheet. Hakkai closed the oven door on the muffins and edged towards him, searching him for any signs of stress. Was his tie always a little crooked? Did he always have those deep bags under his eyes? Sanzo’s gaze flashed to him, and his brow set in a nasty scowl. “What the fuck do you want?”

Hakkai pursed his lips, but he had to say something. “I spoke with Goku last night,” he said in a hush. Sanzo’s nostrils flared, but Hakkai noticed his hand clench then release, his fingers trembling just a little.

“You can do whatever or whoever you want on your time. I don’t care..”

Hakkai cringed at the implications, but he shook his head. “Why did you do it?”

Sanzo’s eyes widened for a moment, then narrowed to angry slits. “Why did you?”

Hakkai had no answer, and stood unable to speak, his shoulders falling slack, and Sanzo skulked away, leaving any hope of a conversation hanging like so many other things left broken in their wakes.


	38. Bad Karma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The consequences of some bad decisions have come home to roost.
> 
> TRUST ARC - PART 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to opalmatrix for a little bit of unintentional inspiration I got from one of her comments!

**38: Bad Karma**

It should have been a Wednesday morning like any other. Really, for the most part, it was. The dim morning light filtering through the garage’s skylight illuminated a typical tableau, the white light casting faint shadows on the concrete as Gojyo, Goku, and Gat moved around and through to attend to their usual tasks. There was plenty to do, and plenty doing: cars rolling in, customers with questions, phone calls, stock checks, the grind of gears, the whir of the drill, the clatter and clang of tools. However, something was missing. Gat found himself looking at the other two over the hood of the car open in front of him to study his boss and their apprentice. Goku was, notably, wearing the same shirt as the day before and, from the grease in his hair, didn’t seem to have bathed. He seemed to be sore, too, stopping every once in a while to stretch, twisting left and right at the waist, then looking around as if to make sure nobody had seen him. Gojyo’s hair was tangled at the bottom, his ponytail sloppy, and he had deep bags under his eyes. He smelled like soap, but also like alcohol sweat. Neither of them looked like they’d slept.

However, that wasn’t the real thing that had caught Gat’s attention. It was what wasn’t there.

He looked up over the engine again, from Goku working at a tire with his lips sealed tight, and Gojyo morosely putting up his tools. Not even looking at each other. Gat had to remark: “Awful quiet in here today.”

Both Gojyo and Goku merely sighed in response, and Goku glanced back towards Gojyo, as somber as a mourner, just as Gojyo turned around to face him. Gojyo knit his brow up as he studied Goku, then approached and asked under his breath: “You look like you could use some bro time. You think we can do lunch together?”

Goku cracked a tiny smile, his first that day. “Yeah, sure.” Gat observed a moment longer as the two of them drifted apart again, then returned to his work without a word.

Their days were becoming significantly less typical.

* * *

“So, the jackass dumped you.” Gojyo fell just short of kicking the soda machine as Goku finished explaining.

“Don’t call him that!” Goku’s cheeks went bright red, and he gripped his sandwich basket tighter as Gojyo scowled at the stream of soda filling his cup as if it was the drink’s fault. “But, yeah.”

“Pfft.” Gojyo was rough setting the cup down to put a lid on it, then motioned at Goku. “He dumped you for no good reason, I’ll say what I want. You need me to kick his ass?” Goku shook his head ‘no’ as hard as he could, and Gojyo scoffed, lip curling, then gestured to the room. “Whatever you say. Pick a seat, kiddo.”

Goku sniffed, but shuffled into the dining area of the sandwich shop to pick a table. He and Gojyo had come here before; Gojyo loved the avocado BLT, and Goku loved their french fries, and they’d spent a few happy lunch breaks joking and laughing and having mock swordfights with their pickle spears. Goku had a feeling today would be more of a talking day, especially because he didn’t feel like talking, so he knew he had to. Goku picked at his fries as Gojyo got settled and took a long swig of his drink. When he was sure Gojyo was listening, Goku ventured a little further: “I think he had a reason.” Goku chewed his lower lip as Gojyo raised an eyebrow at him. “He’s real logical, and all. He doesn’t do stuff for no reason. I think, when I told him, y'know, how I feel, he got scared.” He let his chin fall a little. “Especially after he heard what happened between you and Hakkai.”

“He already knows? Fuck, you know?” Gojyo leaned forward, wide-eyed, and Goku cringed but bobbed his chin.

“He told me.”

“Fuck.” The word came out like Gojyo had been punched in the gut, and he sunk back just the same for a second, dumbfounded. Then, he leaned forward, elbows on the table, and scrubbed his hands down his face. “Did Hakkai tell him? How much did he tell him?”

“I dunno how he found out.” Goku scrunched his face and picked at a few more of his fries, as Gojyo moaned softly into his palms. “But I guess after hearing about it, me saying that, when you two were such a good couple and Hakkai did that to you…” He paused, swallowing, then tried to look around Gojyo's fingers into his eyes. “I’m real sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” Gojyo muttered back automatically.

“No, really.” Goku fidgeted, thinking of picking up another fry, then nudging it back as Gojyo kept his palms pressed into his eyeballs. “You and Hakkai were a good couple. I thought it was a love story–”

“Mm.”

“Seriously, it was fairytale! Like, you meet by chance, you help him out of a pinch, and then you start talking, and–”

“Hey, don’t go making a big deal out of it.” Gojyo flipped his hand around and dragged his elbows back across the table top. “Sometimes, stuff just don’t work.” He swatted flippantly, his eyes dropping to his feet. “Bad luck, or maybe just bad karma. That’s all she wrote.”

Goku’s heart hit his stomach, and he lost his appetite a little. “Don’t talk like that! Jeez, you sound like you don’t care!”

“Nah, it’s not that.” Gojyo sprawled a little in the seat, disaffected but avoiding looking at Goku directly. “The fact is, when it’s over, it’s over. He saw something better and left me behind, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I just gotta get over it.”

“But you’re not even sad!” Goku slapped the table. “Tell me how you're feeling! Are you sad? Mad? Anything?”

This gave Gojyo pause, but after a moment, he shrugged. “Something like that, yeah. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it sucks that it’s over, but…” He paused again, hesitating, then muttered, “I never deserved him in the first place. This’s for the best.”

“No!” Goku jumped up, palms planted on the table and shoulders hunched to his ear. “He’s the jerk that cheated on you!”

“Hey. Shut up.” Gojyo grounded himself in the chair, back hunched, casting his glare sideways. “He did what he thought was right–”

“There’s nothing right about it, especially when it hurt you!”

“So what?” Gojyo patted his bicep. “I got thick skin.”

“Yeah, but if it hurt you, you can say it! You should be mad at him!”

“I’m not.” Gojyo shrugged, and Goku’s face went as scarlet as Gojyo’s hair. “I messed up, and it’s over, and I’m gonna get over it.”

Gojyo slammed his hands on the table again. “How did you mess up?” Gojyo sealed his lips, sucking his lower lip in and chewing on it, then slid his palm up his cheek again. Goku leaned close to his face. “C'mon, you can talk about it. You’ll feel better if you do.”

Gojyo spared Goku a glance between his fingers, then shook his head and pushed Goku back to his seat. “I’m fine, kid. Let’s eat before we run out of time, I feel bad leaving Gat by his lonesome.”

Goku stuck his lower lip out, but backed into his seat. Gojyo didn’t quite turn around in his chair, but slid his hand down his cheek to prop his chin up as Goku ate his sandwich without another word. He barely even tasted it. Even the french fries had been lackluster, and letting them get cold hadn’t helped. He couldn’t even muster the appetite to eat the cheese that had fallen out, but when he glanced up to Gojyo, he noticed that Gojyo had barely taken even a nibble. His heart sank. “Hey, you need to eat, too.”

“Huh?” Gojyo snapped to attention, then glanced to the red plastic basket, not quite looking at the food. “Oh. Yeah, guess so.” Goku knit his brow up as Gojyo took half the sandwich up and took a bite. He remembered Christmas too well, his chest aching at the thought of Gojyo starving himself again. It was a small relief when he managed to eat half the sandwich before wrapping what was left in the paper. “I ain’t that hungry, but I’ll get a box. Maybe snack on it later.”

It was something, Goku thought. It didn’t matter how much he was hurting, Gojyo had still never been anything but kind to him, even when he really, _really_ hadn’t deserved it. Like, the first week after they’d met.

_Goku arrived at the front door and stared up at the sign. He could see a few chips in the wall where part of the lighting on the name had been peeled off, but maybe that was just from the last business that had been here. None of his business, really. All he knew was that G’s Auto Repair had agreed to take him on as an apprentice, and the instructions from the boss were “Come in and announce yourself, the receptionist doesn’t get here until 10,” and that was fine for him._

_So in he marched, to the distinct crunch of a wrench working at a bolt. He tried to peer in through the gap between the front and the garage proper, and saw a pair of legs sticking out from under a car. Long, skinny legs, clad in a baggy jumpsuit. Goku cleared his throat, making sure his voice came out at the bottom of his register, and called out: “Hello? Mr. G? Uh, I’m here about the apprenticeship?”_

“ _'Zat so?” The rich, warm voice that reverberated back actually made Goku’s heart skip a beat, and as the mechanic rolled out from under the car and jumped up to his feet, lean and long, pulling his jumpsuit off of his arms and shoulders, striding towards the garage. Goku gaped at him: the muscles! The broad shoulders! The long hair in that perfectly sloppy ponytail! That sexy smirk so casual it was like he didn’t even know how sexy he was! Goku knew his mouth was open as the mechanic came close, and extended a long-fingered hand. “Well, first things first, none of that Mister stuff. Name’s Gojyo.” He winked, and Goku realized he was meant to shake, and enthusiastically grabbed on and shook it hard, pumping it up and down._

“ _It’s really nice to meet you!” He bounced on his heels. “Thanks for taking me on! I promise I’ll work hard!”_

“ _I believe you, kid, and you’re gonna have to. It’s just you and me here, y'know?” Gojyo chuckled a little, then yanked his hand from Goku’s grip (oh no, had he been holding on that tight? At least Gojyo wasn’t teasing him!). “I got a jumpsuit for ya hangin’ in the hall, go ahead and pull it on, we got plenty to do. I’ll give you the rundown of how things go around here as we work, but we’re not what you’d call real formal.” He chuckled, and Goku felt his knees wobble at that self-deprecating, charming grin. “Though, I say 'we’ like it’s anyone but me. Still. Royal 'we’ since I’m King in this garage, right?” He winked at Goku. “Enough of me talking, especially since you’re not answering and kinda staring at me with your tongue hanging out of your mouth. Let’s go, yeah?” He motioned for Goku to follow as he pivoted around, stopping only to let Goku pull his jumpsuit on. Then, he strolled on into the garage, casual as you please, and settled back down on his roller board. “Give me a second to finish up this fuel line, and then I wanna see what you know.”_

_“Sure!” Goku stood back, admiring behind sealed lips and a forced nonchalant expression as Gojyo stretched back out._

_“So tell me, kiddo, how much experience do you have fixing cars?”_

_“Oh, y'know, the basics.” Goku propped himself against the workbench, keeping a little distance as Gojyo rolled under the truck he’d been working on. “My foster mom taught me how to change oil and tires, and she let me use her car to learn some of the parts, but that’s about it.” He grinned nervously, as Gojyo hummed and kicked one long leg out, and Goku traced the line of his toned leg and thigh where it showed through the canvas with his gaze, and swallowed hard. Gojyo didn’t seem to notice how casually attractive he was._

_“That’s about what I expected.”_

_“Oh, but we’ve gone over stuff in class, and–!”_

_“Monkeywrench.”_

_Goku’s jaw fell slack, a blush tinging his cheeks. “Um… do you mean… me?”_

_This got Gojyo to roll out and sit up, grinning. “No, no. Next to your head.” Gojyo motioned, and Goku spun around to find the tool Gojyo was asking for hung on a pegboard behind him. Goku squeaked and grabbed it, then scuttled over to him with it . “Should I have said, 'Gimme the monkeywrench?’ Or should I just start callin’ you that?” He patted Goku’s hand as he took the wrench, and the blush that had been threatening Goku completely overtook him._

_Crap. Gojyo wasn’t just hot, he was cute._

_He had to be careful, he knew. So he tried to keep it light, casual, as Gojyo reviewed the basics with him. As Goku showed Gojyo he knew how to change oil with Gojyo right at his back, so close the skin on Goku’s back got a little shivery at the thought of Gojyo’s chest being that close, he started with, “Hey, can I ask about you a little?”_

_“Only a little,” Gojyo chuckled over his shoulder._

_“Do you have a girlfriend?”_

_Gojyo actually laughed. “Nah. Got a couple girls who know my name at the bar and the sandwich shop, but I’m not seein’ anybody.”_

_“Ohh, 'anybody,’ huh? Do you date guys?” Goku winked at Gojyo, and Gojyo laughed again._

_“Well, not formally, but I wouldn’t say no. Is that a problem?”_

_“Nope. I date everyone! Or I would. You know.” Goku grinned to himself, encouraged, but Gojyo planted his big hand on Goku’s head._

_“That’s fine with me, but let’s keep the love drama out of the workplace, yeah? I had a thing going with someone I worked with before, which made it all the messier when we started to disagree.”_

_Maybe Goku could have taken the hint then, but he didn’t._

_Later, as Gojyo demonstrated how he tested for why an engine wasn’t starting, in a lull between testing a spark plug and Gojyo digging out his jumper cables, Goku sidled alongside him. “So, hey, did you have dinner plans yet?”_

_“I got half of a can of Manwich with my name on it.” Gojyo chuckled without looking at Goku, then swung his elbow wide as he yanked the cable off the wall, forcing Goku to take a step back. “I’m not much of a cook, but I get by.”_

“ _Well, y'know, I know this place in town–”_

_Gojyo spun around and planted a big hand on Goku’s shoulder, then bent over to get eye-level with him. “Wait, are you actually doing this?” He grinned wide and bright, obviously amused. “You’re seriously trying to pick me up. You. Picking me up.” Goku felt his face nearly melt off of his skull, but he nodded furiously. Gojyo laughed again, his voice rich and sweet, but it reeked of condescension like someone leaning out of the window of a Cadillac. “Oh, oh man. That’s cute.” He held Goku’s shoulder a little tighter, and Goku flushed when he realized that for Gojyo, ‘cute’ wasn’t a good thing. “Listen, it’s really cute, and I appreciate that you think I’m good-looking – let’s face it, it’s all I got going for me sometimes – but I’m your boss, and even if I wasn’t your boss, I don’t date kids.”_

_The 'kid’ crack stung, and Goku stuck his lower lip out. “I’m not a kid! I’ll be nineteen in April!”_

“ _Yeah, sure.” Gojyo let go of Goku and set his hands on his hips, drawing himself up, his broad shoulders and dense chest stark through his jumpsuit (and God why did he have to still be hot when he was telling him off?!), and cocked his chin out. “Look, maybe when you can drink, but until then, you’re a kid, and I’m still your boss. So, cool it, okay?”_

_Goku snorted and crossed his arms, pouting only a little, and Gojyo turned on his heel and strode back towards the garage. Goku sucked in a breath and gave chase, but though Gojyo was talking about a loose muffler, Gojyo was watching the curve of his butt through his jumpsuit, keeping his admiration mute, and trying to dream up another approach._

_The next day, while they were sharing lunch behind the counter, Gojyo flipping through the inventory on the computer while he ate, Goku leaned over Gojyo’s shoulder watching. He took the chance to lean a little closer. “You sure you wouldn’t want me to take you somewhere nicer to eat?”_

“ _There’s a sandwich shop nearby. But if you’re trying to ask me out again, the answer’s still no.” Gojyo didn’t seem bothered, tone as level as concrete, but he chewed with his mouth open a little wider on the next bite as if hoping to gross Goku out._

_It didn’t change Goku’s mind._

_Gojyo was combing his hair out in the bathroom mirror after yanking the jumpsuit off later that day, and Goku peered in as he checked himself in the mirror. “So, uh,” and Goku paused to check the article on his phone. “Are you… sure that we didn’t meet before I came here?” Gojyo made a noncommittal, inquiring noise, and Goku winked at his reflection. “Well, I just know I wouldn’t forget a face as pretty as yours.”_

“ _Sorry, what was that?” Gojyo dug his pinky into his ear. “I thought I heard a kid trying to flirt with me. And not doing a very good job, either.” Goku blushed fresh-paint red as Gojyo sauntered past him as if Goku hadn’t said anything,_

_Fine! One last resort!_

_While reviewing the inventory notes on the computer, Gojyo heard something rattling in the garage – Goku knew he hadn’t been subtle – and came to investigate, and found Goku with his jumpsuit pulled back, revealing his tee-shirt, sorting out the spare bolts while splayed out seductively on the workbench. Gojyo groaned under his breath as Goku turned towards him, presenting himself in a display. “Oh. Hey.” Goku winked, pretending he hadn’t been waiting for Gojyo to walk in for twenty minutes. He wiggled an eyebrow. “I was just keeping my hands busy. You know, putting like with like. Just something I like to do.” He had briefly entertained putting a wrench between his teeth like a rose, but, for one, ow, and for two, he was still trying to talk Gojyo into giving him a chance. “You know, you could probably keep me busy, 'cause if you gimme a chance, I’ll give ya lots of attention–”_

“ _Goku.” Gojyo crossed his arms over his chest and pinched his brow, and Goku’s confidence collapsed. “I told ya no once. I told ya no twice.” He heaved a sigh, and Goku slowly rolled up, shoulders and chest aching a little at the plain disappointment on Gojyo’s face. “I ain’t being coy with you, and I ain’t looking for you to convince me. I don’t date younger guys. Period. And, again, you work for me.”_

_“Well, yeah, but–”_

_“I need your help.” Gojyo shook his head again. “You already know enough to handle some of the small stuff on your own, and I’m alone in this garage without you. I’m damn lucky to have you, you know? I can’t risk your school snatching you back if they think I’m taking advantage, and I don’t wanna take advantage of you in the first place.” He sighed and held one hand out. “No more flirting, no more pick-ups. We can be bros, but that’s it. You wanna be my bro?”_

_There was something a little desperate in Gojyo’s shaky smile, something a little sad, and it hit Goku that maybe Gojyo really meant this. “You mean it? Like, friends?”_

_“I like you, kid. You’re funny.” Gojyo turned his offered handshake into a generous ruffle of Goku’s hair. “Now hop on off there and let’s get back to it, yeah?” He held his hand out again, and this time, Goku took it._

Back then, Goku had just wanted Gojyo to like him. Preferably, to like him a lot. It was after this conversation that Gojyo actually began to treat him like an equal, as both a student and friend, as a mentor to him, as an ally. Sometimes, Goku wished he had the guts to come out to him, but he only ever did that if he absolutely had to. No matter. Gojyo had wanted to trust him then. He should trust him now.

As Gojyo led the way out, Goku chased him close and tucked his head and shoulders up under his arm. “Hey, Gojyo? Just so you know, no matter what happens, I’m still gonna be your friend.”

Gojyo cocked an eyebrow at him, but he didn’t pull his arm off of Goku’s back, instead letting it sling there. “I didn’t think you wouldn’t be.”

“Just making sure.” Goku huddled a little closer to his chest. He didn’t love Gojyo, not like he did Sanzo, and he knew Gojyo would never love him like Gojyo loved Hakkai, but this was enough. “And you can talk to me anytime, okay?”

Gojyo hummed again, smiling but not looking at anything but the path ahead of them, and Goku sighed but let himself sag against him. He knew what that meant. He’d learned all of Sanzo’s little noises, too.

Gojyo and Goku walked back all the way like that, but as they reached the door, Gojyo’s phone rang in his pocket. Gojyo snatched it out, hope flashing over his features for a split second before sinking into puzzlement. “Go ahead, I’ll catch up.” Gojyo motioned and turned away before watching to see if Goku left, and hurried around the corner to answer. “Yo, Jien, is somethin’–”

“Gojyo.” Jien’s voice was stark and harsh down the line, and something about it froze his feet in place. He heard Jien take a deep breath, then growl, “What the hell is this?”

Gojyo shivered, glancing over his shoulder before answering. “What’re you talking about?”

“I’m talking about this flash drive.” Gojyo flinched when he heard something rattle; the clatter of fingers on a keyboard. “What is this? What are these pictures? What are these – videos?! What the hell, Gojyo?!”

Gojyo sucked in a breath, then exhaled. “It’s exactly what it looks like.”

“No, no no, I want a goddamn explanation!” There was a smash on the other end, and Gojyo clearly heard Yaone gasp in the background. He winced, because now he could hear Kougaiji, too, and nausea threatened what little was inside of him. “When did you do this? How old were you? Why–”

“Why else would I have done it?” The words seethed hot in his throat, sour on his tongue, but he didn’t bother to temper them. “I wanted money. I didn’t think it’d matter. It seemed like a good idea–”

“This–” Jien snapped back, biting Gojyo’s next words off, “This was clearly after you came back to me. I was taking care of you – I knew you and Banri were up to some shady stuff, but this, Gojyo?! Now answer me! How. Old. Were. You.”

Gojyo steeled himself. “Why does that m–”

“You _know_ why it matters!” Gojyo had been ready for him to yell, but he had no idea how raw it would feel on his aching heart. “You didn’t have to do this, and you sure as hell didn’t have to do it when I was taking care of you! This is a crime, and the fact that nobody’s in jail for it, it–” Jien choked on his words. “It sickens me. Look, we need to–”

“We don’t need to do anything! It’s ancient history, and the fact that you didn’t know about it until now doesn’t change anything!” Gojyo clenched his fist tight around his phone, feeling the plastic strain under his hand. “I’m still the fucking family embarrassment! So what?! What the fuck is new?! Sorry I didn’t come out of my shitty childhood a fucking saint like you did! Fuck, you know your hands ain’t clean but you still fucking lecture me every time I slip!” He could hear Jien winding up on the other end, but he wasn’t listening. “Fuck you, I don’t owe you a damn thing! Think whatever you want about me! I did it because we needed money and I didn’t care what I had to do to get it, and fuck it, it ain’t like I’m good for anything else, right? Fuck off!” He pitched his phone at the wall as hard as he could, and the plastic and glass shattered on impact, scattering in little glittering pieces at his feet. Gojyo caught his breath, shoulders and chest heaving, and took in the tableau of what used to be his phone scattered on the ground. He tried to kick most of it off the sidewalk into the gutter, but gave up and stormed off, deciding it wasn’t worth the energy.

If Gat and Goku noticed that he stewed in silence the rest of the afternoon, they didn’t dare say anything about it.

Gojyo worked until the shadows grew long, losing himself in the grind, even starting up on getting into a misfiring piston as the skylight went from pink to gold, until Gat cleared his throat near Gojyo’s elbow. He paused in the middle of the turn of his wrench, not trusting himself to look back. “Boss, it’s six. I locked the front door.”

“Oh, yeah?” Gojyo glanced back to the big clock on the wall, then dared meet Gat’s heavy gaze. Gat was focused on him, his jacket slung over his shoulder,  “Well, I got it from here.” He motioned vaguely to the engine. “Kind of in the middle of this, so I’ll be here a little longer.”

“You should go home and rest.” Gat was surveying him, and Gojyo was suddenly keenly aware that Gat was looking down from above and not liking what he saw. He turned and got back to working the bolt loose.

“I’m good. Just wanna finish this.” Gojyo kept working at it, as Gat continued to watch him with obvious expectation. “It’s fine,” he muttered into the engine. “I haven’t got anywhere else to be.”

Gat hummed, then set his jacket down on the bench. “I don’t have a shift tonight. Can I lend a hand?”

Gojyo knit his eyebrows up, then looked back and studied Gat again. He was still clearly watching Gojyo, but his expression was benign. His presence didn’t hurt, anyway, but Gojyo did remember something. “You sure you wouldn’t rather go home and enjoy your night off?”

The strange rumble Gat let out was either a soft laugh or a weary groan, but he dropped his jacket and rolled his sleeves. “I have nowhere else to be, either.”

For a faint moment, Gojyo felt a kinship with Gat as more than a coworker, or maybe he just really wanted to. Either way, he shrugged. “Sure. Throw your coveralls back on and bring me the oil can, willya?”

Gat cracked a smile, and the two settled into the quiet peace of a late night spent at work.

* * *

Hazel’s apartment was vacant but for the bright sunlight that flooded the floor from the big window in the back of the room, and he scowled at it and hurried to close the curtains so he wouldn’t be blinded in his own home. The comfortable shadow soothed his aching eyes, but even with that small comfort, the room was empty. No big lump sprawled on the sofa, dishes left in the sink in their minikitchen, not even the scent of his preferred deodorant. Hazel peered back towards the bedroom on the off chance Gat had fallen asleep after work, but their bed was empty, Gat’s side made up, untouched for days now. Hazel wasn’t even sure if Gat had been home. He snatched his phone out, still muted from class, and saw no messages from Gat, but a few voicemails. He swiftly dialed Gat’s number. It rang four times, then went to the machine, just like it had every time up until now. Hazel groaned his frustration at Gat’s curt voicemail message, hardly even listening to his words anymore (he’d heard them so many times now in the past days), before letting loose:

“Are ya really this mad at me? Leavin’ without a word?!” Hazel stormed into the bedroom and checked Gat’s drawers. His clothes were all still there, but even that didn’t assuage Hazel. “I thought we were in this together. Movin’ out here, startin’ over.” He shuffled back towards the main room, their shared sofa. They’d spent so many nights together there, settled against one another, Hazel reading or doing his homework and chattering away, Gat relaxing and encouraging Hazel to keep talking in his gentle, taciturn way. “I miss you.” He grunted his irritation. “We at least need to talk. I know you don’t like what I’m doin’, but I’m done with it now!” He flopped onto the sofa. “Just… come home. Text me back, call me, somethin’. I don’t want to go on like this.” He hung up, heaving a sigh and letting his head fall back onto the back of the sofa. He could see glimmers of the sunset dancing across the ceiling, but the brightness still stung his eyes.

“I’d thought it was the right thing to do, damn it.” He thunked his head against the back of the sofa. “Why ain’t things fallin’ into place?”

His voicemail message flashed insistently, and Hazel dialed it, put it on speaker, and dropped the phone on the table.

“Good afternoon, Hazel.” Oh, the Prof. Hazel raised an eyebrow. What did he want now? “I just wanted to follow up on our arrangement. I’m glad to say your services were most helpful to me. I got the information I needed to help my brother and my unfortunate former flame.”

“Well, good.” Hazel sniffed, glad the Professor couldn’t hear him.

“… Although, you’ll find it rewarding in life not to get too far ahead of yourself. All that extra information you gave me, not helpful, most distracting. It’s a lesson you’ll have to learn as you go.”

Hazel 'hmph'ed, and thought back to their last conversation.

_Hazel texted Professor Ukoku the photographs he’d taken of Gojyo and that rotten blond fellow, and the Professor smirked as he looked them over. “Good information.”_

“ _The pictures from the outside don’t tell the whole story.” Hazel tucked his phone away. “I was questioning on that Gojyo fella too – you’ve got it right that he’s from the wrong side of the tracks, he’s not too well-learned or too well-spoken, but he tries hard and it’s clear he’s doin’ his best to keep on the up-and-up. That conversation there? Seems like the blond fella was tryin’ to convince him into a bad situation, but Gojyo there was tellin’ him off. Sure, he was goin’ for his throat, but he had a damn good reason. Your ex found himself a decent guy.”_

_Professor Ukoku raised an eyebrow. “Is that your honest opinion?”_

“ _It is, sir.” Hazel crossed his arms. “Same goes for your little brother’s guy. You tell me the same thing, he’s another broke kid with no family and no prospects, but he’s a good guy who’s tryin’ to make somethin’ of himself. He’s as honest as the day is long. Your brother was looking at buying a house for the pair of them to share, it’s obvious he’s happy.” He pursed his lips, well aware that Ukoku was studying him, listening. Hazel had never quite liked the Professor, but he had agreed with him on one thing, to start: one couldn’t be too careful, and there were people one just had to watch out for. Even so, Hazel knew at least one person who others might say the same about. “I’m sorry to disagree with ya, sir, but just 'cause they’re at a disadvantage don’t mean they’re bad guys. They’re tryin’ to make somethin’ of themselves.”_

“ _I don’t suppose you might have some bias, just because that gentleman you’re living with might be viewed in a similar fashion.”_

_Damn, he was keen. Hazel merely shrugged. “It’s somethin’ I’ve come to realize, watchin’ them live. Even if it might have to do with him, too, I’d say that’s just proof of concept.”_

_Ukoku smirked again and pinched his cheek. “How cute. What a good student you are.” He let go, practically throwing Hazel back, and Hazel rubbed his cheek and sucked back his tongue and irritation. “But that’ll be all. With this, I think our arrangement is…”_

“… over, but there is one more thing to discuss.” Hazel frowned and sat forward at this. “It was our arrangement that you would help me with this observation, and I wouldn’t disclose to your guardians that you’re living in a one-bedroom apartment with an older man of unknown history.” Hazel blanched, as Ukoku clicked his tongue on the recording. “Well, as your advisor and professor, I reconsidered the situation. It just seems far too dangerous for a young, easily-influenced man like you. I had to call the Sisters listed as your legal guardians and disclose the unfortunate details of your situation.”

“You did what?!” Hazel squawked at the recording, as if Ukoku could hear, as if it would change anything he’d said.  The recording kept talking, but Hazel wasn’t hearing, his head spinning. _How could he? How could he?! After everything he’d done for him!_

“… I imagine they’ll have a lot to discuss with you, but really, you may find your arguments more convincing with them than they were on me. I hope to see you in class Monday. Bye.” How could that sonofabitch be _sing-song_ when he’d just destroyed Hazel’s life?!

Sure enough, the next message was from one of the Sisters. “Hazel, we just received a phone call from one of your professors.” Hazel sat forward, his face dropping into his open palms. “He alerted us to the details of your… situation. Your… activism. This alleged relationship, Hazel, it’s wholly inappropriate in appearance, and if it’s true, then it’s inexcusable. Bishop Filbert would have been dreadfully disappointed, I can assure you…”

“No, he wouldn’t,” Hazel sobbed back, because he'd started crying and now the tears just wouldn't stop. “Christ, he knew I was… he said God loved me, no matter who I loved!”

“… considering your apparent _lifestyle choices_ , we must reconsider the current status of your conservatorship.” He could practically hear the sister pursing her lips. “We expect reform, and we are certain you can achieve repentance, but until we have a conversation with you and evidence that you have returned to God’s light, we must restrict your access to your trust fund. It will, of course, be turned over to you upon your graduation from college, but until such time as you show yourself deserving…”

Hazel couldn’t listen to the rest, his heart racing. _That was his college money. That paid his apartment, that paid for his food, that was how he lived!_ Sure enough, the next message was from his bank, surely letting him know that his account had been emptied and every last cent to his name transferred out, but Hazel’s head was spinning, he was too sick, too dizzy to listen, nothing could possibly make sense.

He killed the message and redialed Gat. It rang four times again, then clicked to the answering machine, but Hazel had no more bluster. He listened to the whole message, trying to gather his words, but he couldn’t figure out what to say. He could hear the hiss of feedback as the message recorded his silence, before finally whispering, “You were right. I’m sorry. I… I thought I was doin’ the right thing, and I… I was wrong! I don’t know what to do. You’ve been there to help me every time stuff has been rough before, and I… I don’t…” He trailed off, as the answering service stopped recording, as the feedback turned into silence, and he whispered to himself: “I don’t know how to fix this.”

There was no answer.


	39. Someone To Talk To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At orders from a higher power, Hakkai and Sanzo each seek some form of solace.
> 
> TRUST ARC - PART 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for suicidal ideations.

**39: Someone to Talk To**

Days had passed, quiet and serene, and perhaps from the outside, it seemed like everything was as it should be. Goku knew it was like that for him, anyway. He still got up every morning, dressed, and went to the garage to spend the day at work. It seemed to be the same for Gojyo, too: he was there when Goku got there, already burying himself with work as if he didn’t have two others who would help him carry it all.

Goku knew appearances weren’t everything. He could tell Gojyo wasn’t eating or sleeping the way he used to, because he could see the tiredness dragging at his eyelids, and he could hear Gojyo's stomach growl sometimes. He was sure Gojyo was still upset about what had happened, and he was putting a brave face on and trying to get past it. Maybe he thought if he faked it long enough, he could convince himself that he was alright. For his part, Goku wasn’t convinced, and he had to wonder what Gojyo was actually doing to get himself together. He knew Gojyo had been doing therapy with Koumyou, but he wasn’t sure if he’d been going. It wasn’t his business, no, but maybe Koumyou could help. Goku would love to talk to Koumyou right now.

He knew he wasn’t okay. He jumped every time his phone went off, anticipating that it just might be Sanzo asking to talk to him, that maybe he’d wake up one morning and find the last week to have been nothing but a nightmare, that he still had a chance, that he wouldn’t have to move on. He kept finding himself disappointed, like he was reaching for something he wanted, closing his hand around it, then turning his palm up to find it empty. Worse, he had no idea what he could do about it.

He had no right to try to fix Gojyo when he couldn’t fix himself. So, they went on fixing the things they could, trying to laugh and joke around the cars open in front of them. The engines were less complicated than their own minds, but it was something they could do right.

* * *

The atmosphere in the bakeshop had been tense but quiet for days. If the slight logjam during Hakkai’s Wednesday shift had been an indicator, maybe some of the other bakers would have bailed, because by Saturday, there was a constant stream of mistakes from Hakkai’s station. Pippi caught him mixing up salt and sugar more than once, doughs were coming out lumpy or too loose, and a cake had to be returned because it was decorated in the wrong colors. The worst part was that nobody could scold him – not because he was the boss, but because even Pippi found his reaction sad:

“Too much flour. Too much flour again.” Hakkai bit his lower lip hard, eyes wide, not even daring to make eye contact, and he laced his fingers as if that would hide that they were shaking. “I’m sorry, I’m tremendously sorry. I’ll do it again.” He winced and ducked down a little. “I’m so sorry…”

“Boss.” Pippi put her hands on her hips. “It’s a simple mistake, you just happen to be making a whole bunch of ‘em in a row lately. You gotta cool it. Take a breath, and just get back to it, okay?” He nodded, still chewing his lip, and returned to his station to begin scaling again. Pippi spun right around and ducked out the front, catching Houmei by her apron strings and yanking her back. She stumbled into the kitchen, but before she could squeak her protest, Pippi dragged her to the work sinks, out of the way and out of earshot, and whispered: “He did it again.” She jerked her nose towards Hakkai, and Houmei gasped and shook her head.

“Oh, the boss is still messed up?”

“He looks like he could just fall apart. Worse, everything he makes does, too!” Pippi huffed, narrowing her eyes. “Can we get Mr. Sanzo to talk to him? The two of them haven’t even looked at one another in days.”

Houmei bit and chewed her index finger. “Ah, I’d ask him to, but…”

“But?” The word bit, and Houmei winced.

“I’m a little scared of him right now.” She dared to look out the window on the bakeshop door to where she could just make out a glimpse of the top of his head, then whispered even softer as if he might hear her under the clamor in the kitchen. “He’s been touchy. He’s glaring at customers again, especially the women paying attention to him, and it’s almost impossible to get him to string more than two words together in a conversation. He actually insulted a customer to her face. We got a complaint online!”

“Jeez.” Pippi pinched her brow, forehead scrunching up into a widow’s peak. “I got a bad feeling about what’s going on with those two.” She cast a sharp look in Hakkai’s direction, where he hung over his bench like a raincloud ready to break. “I don’t know either of those two personally, so I have no idea what to do, but if we let things go on, you and me and everyone else who works for these guys are going to be out of jobs.”

Houmei gasped, clapping her hands to her mouth. “Ohh, gosh! Do you really–? But, what are we–”

“You and me shouldn’t do anything.” Pippi shushed Houmei, motioning for her to "keep it down" with her hand. “But I’m going to call someone who could, should, and probably will. Go try and temper the front-end boss for a little longer, I’ll do what I can to prop up the back-end boss for the next little bit.”

“Okay,” Houmei agreed, and the two parted, Houmei to be the friendly face customers needed to see, and Pippi, all-business as always, getting her cell phone out and ducking into the alcove behind the work sinks to make a risky call.

A few minutes before noon, the bakeshop door busted open, and Sharak strode in wearing patterned pajama pants, flip flops, and a confident, authoritative smile. “Hakkai, good morning!” Hakkai jerked to attention, as Sanzo and Houmei chased in behind Sharak, Sanzo scowling, Houmei quaking in her clogs.

“You know the rules,” Sanzo snarled, “Closed shoes in the k–”

“I won’t be staying long, I hope. Come on, boys, it’s already the middle of March and we haven’t had our quarterly!” She motioned to Sanzo, who jerked back, lip curled with annoyance. “You, get the winter numbers! And Hakkai, we need to talk about Easter and Mother’s Day, and possibly Passo…” She trailed off as she took in both of them, and took a step back to stare at both of them. She shot a frown towards Pippi, then set her hands on her hips. “Alright, I thought that one–” She pointed to Sanzo. “– was crabbier than usual, but Hakkai, you look like you haven’t slept in a week or two, and you were not like this last week. What’s wrong with the two of you?” She set her stance like a drill sergeant, arms crossed and feet grounded, and raised an eyebrow, demanding the truth without a single fierce word more.

Neither spoke, Sanzo crossing his arms, Hakkai slouching and lowering his face. Sharak clicked her tongue and went toe-to-toe with Hakkai. “Tell me what happened to him.”

Hakkai, bowing under the pressure of the entire bakery staff staring at him, murmured, “He broke up with the boy he was seeing for no reason.”

Houmei squeaked. Pippi raised an eyebrow. Sanzo growled under his breath, anger seething in his every consonant: “Do you want me to tell her what you did?” He grumbled something about “tattle-tale” and “like we’re fucking ten again,” but Sharak scoffed.

“The pair of you are acting like children! Stop grousing!” Hakkai tried to shrink back from her, rubbing his right wrist in his left palm through his sweater, but she seized him by the elbow and held him in place. That petrified him, wide-eyed, and she leaned close. “That boy you were seeing left you, too.” Hakkai couldn’t answer, even when Sharak released him and stepped back, shaking her head as if trying to steady herself. “It figures. Broken hearts kill everything.” Sharak took a deep breath. “For the sake of our business, if nothing else, I need you two to deal with this.”

“I’m fine.” Sanzo crossed his arms tight, but Sharak scoffed at him.

“Liar.”

“I’m dealing with things the best I can.” Hakkai shook his head. “I just want to try to get back into the swing of things.”

“It’s not working.” Sharak seized Sanzo by the collar and fixed Hakkai with a glower. “Both of you need to actually work this out. Whether it’s you–” She yanked Sanzo’s shirt collar again– “fixing whatever it is you screwed up, or you–” She jerked her chin towards Hakkai– “finding someone you can talk your grief out with, you both need to get a grip on your personal lives so they stop interfering with our business!” She released Sanzo. “Both of you, take the day. Take tomorrow if you have to. Hassan and I will cover things here while you both fix your shit.”

“I told you, there’s nothing–!”

“Shut up.” Sharak drew herself up tall, glaring at Sanzo like a haughty sultan. “If you really did break up with that sweet boy for some stupid reason, then there’s at least a part of you that’s still upset that it happened.” Then, she motioned to Hakkai. “And I know this one–”

“If I must,” Hakkai whispered. “There is someone I could go… talk to.”

“Good. Do it.” Sharak then snapped her fingers at Sanzo. “You, too. I don’t care who it is. Get this nastiness out of your systems so we can all get on with our business.” She waved them off, and Sanzo tossed her one last rebellious glower before storming out, and Hakkai, still twisting his wrists from hand to hand, trudged to his bench to get his things together.

As Sanzo passed Pippi on his way out, she cleared her throat, giving him a sideways glance. “You broke it off with that guy from the garage?” Sanzo’s balled fists tightened until his knuckles went white, and she smirked. “So, he’s single. That’s good to know. Thanks, boss.” Pippi pivoted on her heel and returned to the kitchen, and Sanzo let a shiver roll down his spine, anger flooding his every nerve ending, and he slammed the door open with a crash as he stormed the rest of the way out.

Hakkai, meanwhile, tried to gather his things but couldn’t get a handle on everything, trying and failing to remember what he’d forgotten. He could hear Sharak calling Hassan to rearrange the schedule on the fly, dropping her backpack and dragging out a pair of kitchen-approved shoes with her toes, and tried to shut it out. He still felt so horribly raw, and loud, brash, bright Sharak wasn’t helping. Nothing was, nothing had.

Maybe some peace would help, and he could think of only one truly peaceful place to be: with the one person with whom he had always belonged.

* * *

The trees that dotted the cemetery were just coming into bloom, baby buds for fragile white flowers forming on the spindly branches. Hakkai hadn’t known it would be so pretty, so peaceful here. He hadn’t been here in nearly three years, unable to bring himself to visit since the last time he’d had to come, had been forced to come through sobs that wracked him to a shameful heap. He was embarrassed to show his face, even to all the silent sleepers that rejoined the earth beneath the soft grass.

Even to his own sister.

Kanan was buried under one of the white trees, her grave marked with a simple white stone etched with her name and a daisy chain. He seated himself on the grass beside the stone, traced her name with his fingers, and tried to speak. And couldn’t. He struggled, mouth open, lower lip quivering as he tried to summon words, but nothing came. Finally, he sucked in a breath, and said the first thing that came to mind:

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” He forced a wobbly smile and patted the grass under his palm. If any of her remained, he hoped it didn’t linger here, that her soul was somewhere truly peaceful, but so much of him hoped that wherever she was, she could hear him. “I’m, I’m terribly sorry I haven’t visited before. Er, you look lovely, as always.” He laughed to himself as he ran his palm across the smooth curve of her gravestone. “I’ve missed you, more than I can say. Ah, and how is my little niece or nephew? I trust they were waiting for you.” He stretched his arm over to brush the tiny grave adjacent to Kanan’s, marked only with a stone etched with “Baby Cho.” He had meant to posthumously name the little one, but the grief had swallowed him in her wake in such a devastating way that he could never think of it straight. He shook his head. “Perhaps it’s selfish of me, but I still fondly wish you had kept them waiting just a little longer.” He hung his head. “That’s what Nii said; I had been selfish. He must have sneered it at me a dozen times while he was packing his things. But can you blame me? You were all I had.” He paused, as if hearing her answer, _You know that’s not true._ “I…” He struggled, then whispered. “I’m finished with Nii. For good.”

“You were right, Kanan, you were right about him.” His throat tightened around the words: “He wasn’t good for me. He took advantage of me, he lied to me, and by the end of it all, he just wanted to hurt me. He wanted to see me in pain. He got it.” He swallowed, but breathing didn’t get any easier. The rustle of the breeze across the grass willed him to take in air so he could speak again. “He’s hurt me for the last time, though. I can’t imagine anything else he could do to me that I would feel. I’m only sorry I couldn’t protect you from his machinations. I knew the two of you were never fond of one another, but I should have listened to you.” He slid his fingers into the grass as if it were her hair, wishing he could run his fingers down and through amber-brown locks just one more time, but red flashed over his eyelids, and he found himself smiling. “I wonder if you would have liked him.” He paused, as Kanan, in his imagination, asked him, _Who?_ “Gojyo.”

“I met someone new. Ah, by chance, I needed a car repairman, and when I ran to the nearest garage, there he was, this lanky, handsome fellow with a crooked smile and a heart too big for his chest. He was charming from the first, though I could tell he was nervous around me.” Hakkai fidgeted with the grass as he thought back across the months they’d spent together. “He was very good at putting up a front about it. I might not have noticed, if he hadn’t kept slipping.” He smiled fondly to himself as he thought back over Gojyo’s nervous smiles, those flashes when he came across as bashful and just a little terrified. “He was… bright. Loud. Like a sunrise over a bustling city; brilliant and lively, but so welcoming. Every time I opened my eyes to see him there, it was like a whole new light in my life.” Hakkai fidgeted with the livid bruises on his arm. “He was a master at lifting my spirits when my mood went gray, he had a simple, optimistic outlook on most things, he listened to me. He was happy just to be at my side. He wanted me to be happy. He wanted me to be pleased with him.” He still remembered, as if fresh, the days and nights they had shared, lunches together in the back of someone else’s car or on his workbench, dates at restaurants or ice skating, content evenings in each other’s company, the time Gojyo had showed up to nurse him back to health. The time Hakkai had been forced to do the same. Hakkai shook his head as a cloud rolled overhead, casting shadows long on the headstones and across the lawn. “He had his warts, of course; but everyone does. There were things he didn’t want me to know, that he didn’t trust me enough with. I think it nearly killed him once, and it… it frightened me, knowing he didn’t trust me. But, then again, perhaps I didn’t deserve that trust. I suppose that’s why I’ll never see him again.” Hakkai paused, pursing his lips. “You would have liked him, but… I… I made such a horrible mistake.”

A mistake he could never fix, and now all those things they had shared were gone, never to return. Just like the day he’d buried Kanan, everything good he’d had in life was dead.

He considered the stone again for a long, silent moment. He still had so much to say, how could he possibly put it all into words? “I dropped out of my pre-med program, finished college with a culinary arts degree, and opened a bakery, just like you said I should. I couldn’t save you, how could I possibly have saved anyone else? All I could do was try to keep you happy, and you loved my cooking.” His lower lip was trembling, his jaw ached, but it wouldn’t stop moving. “I make your mille-feuille every day, and everyone loves it just as much as you did. Ah, perhaps I should give Sharak my secret recipe. Perhaps Pippi, she might be ready to take over the kitchen.” He rubbed his forehead, and when his thumb brushed over his cheek, it came back wet. “Gojyo…” He had to swallow twice around his name. “Gojyo gave me a cat, so I wouldn’t be lonely. If only that were the problem. I wonder if Goku is allowed pets at his apartment – you don’t know him. You don’t know any of them, not yet, but I’ll make certain they’re all invited. Perhaps they’ll want to come.” His shirt collar was damp for some reason, his eyes ached, he couldn’t even name all the feelings flooding through him, and he found himself pulling his knees into his chest. There was just too much. “I… I hope I can see you again soon. Perhaps… but considering everything, I doubt it.” He curled forward and bowed his head against the stone. The clouds hadn’t lifted. He couldn’t even imagine Kanan’s voice anymore, couldn’t bear to tell her the truth though she was watching, and she knew. She probably hated him for it, too.

He tried to stand, only to find himself still looking down, at Kanan’s headstone first, and then to the empty plot beside hers. He traced the bounds of the plot’s rectangle with his gaze, noted the space at the top where a stone would sit, and wondered what would be carved there when he was left here.

Talking had helped him put a few things together. Now, it was time to think, before he returned.

* * *

It was closing time, though Gojyo still had an engine block open. Goku and Lirin had left already, but Gat, arms crossed, brow knit, watched from the door as Gojyo, focused but still sluggish, lowered his head into the open hood again. “Should I call in so I can help?” Gojyo glanced around, realizing what Gat had said, and shook his head.

“Nah, man, you gotta work your other job tonight, right? Go on, I got this.” Gojyo motioned with a grin he didn’t completely mean, and went back to examining the connections. He heard the back door fall shut behind him, but not five minutes later, there was a bang on the door. Gojyo frowned, but went to answer, expecting Gat had forgotten something.

No, instead, Sanzo was there, scowling (what was new?), and before Gojyo could ask what the fuck he wanted, Sanzo grabbed the collar of his jumpsuit. “Get your fucking shit, we’re going out.”

“Fuck you, what the fuck?!” Gojyo threw his hands off, and Sanzo caught himself from stumbling and lunged back, right into Gojyo’s face.

“I texted you like six times, why the fuck didn’t you answer your phone?” Sanzo wagged his cell at Gojyo.

“How’d you get my number?”

“I lifted it off of Hakkai’s contacts in case I needed him but he wasn’t picking up.”

“Yeah?” Gojyo huffed and dropped his gaze. “Like it’ll do you any good now. Anyway, my phone’s busted. Now, seriously, what do you want?”

“To get plastered, and for you to come with me.”

Gojyo wound up to tell Sanzo off, until he took a second look and saw a flash of raw hurt in Sanzo’s expression. He swallowed an insult, and muttered, “You don’t just drink alone when you’re pissed and unhappy, huh?”

“I’m not fucking around.” Sanzo then dropped to a murmur: “Let me buy you a drink, you stupid asshole.”

Gojyo couldn’t tell if that was pity or commiseration, but fuck it, nothing he had in mind sounded better. “Fuck it,” he said aloud, “Fine. Let me lock that car and get my jacket. You got somewhere in mind?”

“I know where there are bars, we can just pick one.” Sanzo crossed his arms again. “Hurry it up. If I don’t have something 80-proof in my hand in fifteen minutes, I’m going to punch something, and you’re closest.”

Gojyo tried not to call him an asshole again as he went to close the shop. He had a feeling he’d get plenty of opportunities tonight, so he might as well not wear it out now. He didn’t bother trying to imagine what Sanzo was trying to accomplish, but maybe a change might make him feel better. It wasn’t like grinding his fingers to the bone working all night was numbing him out anymore. Maybe a night with Sanzo would drown out his stupid fantasies of Hakkai worrying about him, about anyone giving a damn anymore. After all, Sanzo didn’t care about him. They just had enough in common that they had an excuse to talk.


	40. Someone to Commiserate With

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They have something in common, so maybe they can have a conversation. Maybe.
> 
> TRUST ARC - PART 11

**40: Someone to Commiserate With**

Gojyo was pretty sure he’d gotten kicked out of this bar when he was sixteen. He was certain that if he searched the poorly-lit, half-obscured mirror behind the bartender between the rows of half-empty bottles and polished taps, he’d find the shitty old fake ID Banri had gotten for him with the rest of the “Do Not Serve” crew. However, he’d been a little smaller then, his hair had been shorter, he hadn’t had as much muscle. If it was the same bartender (and Gojyo had gotten way too drunk to remember the guy’s face, so he had no clue), he clearly didn’t remember Gojyo. Now, settled on a creaky leather barstool next to Sanzo, knees just touching the bottom of the oak bar, he flashed his ID with a weak smile, and got a stiff nod and an even stiffer drink in return. Jack Daniels, neat. It burned all the way down, just the way he liked it. 

When he was trying to get drunk, anyway. 

“How can you drink that?” Sanzo had a Jameson and ginger ale, but he turned his nose up at Gojyo’s tumbler. “I’ve tried drinking hard stuff straight, but there’s no flavor, just the alcohol.”

“Sometimes, that’s all you need. Also, screw you, it’s got a flavor.” Gojyo took another deliberate sip. “They got a special way of making Jack, with the charred white oak barrels, it’s got this smokiness–”

“Don’t tell me it’s ‘an acquired taste.’” Sanzo sneered. “That just means 'it tasted awful but I told myself I liked it enough times that I convinced myself.’”

“Bullshit, it just means you like it or you don’t! I do. You like girl drinks mixed with soda. We agree to disagree.” Gojyo planted his elbows on the bar and pointedly glared at the back mirror.

Sanzo raised an eyebrow, then held his drink up. “This isn’t a 'girl’ drink. I see absolutely nothing on here saying, 'girls only,’ nor has it asked me to call it 'Madam.’ Just because it’s cut with soda doesn’t mean it’s any less strong.” He paused, neck and back straightening as he thought, then swiped the glass from Gojyo’s hand. “When’s the last time you ate?”

“Son of a bitch, you take me drinking and–”

“Answer the question, damn it. I saw you at Christmas, you starved yourself into the hospital over my old man throwing a temper tantrum at you, when’s the last time you ate?” Sanzo glared at Gojyo, and Gojyo hunched his shoulders and sealed his lips tight. Sanzo tossed back the last of Gojyo’s drink and slammed the empty glass down, and exhaled hard to clear the taste from his mouth. “I’m not letting you drink straight liquor on an empty stomach.” Sanzo shoved a menu towards him. “Order something solid, you can put it on my tab. I don’t care what it is, but don’t just get the most expensive thing on there to spite me or I’ll ditch you.”

“Fine, fine, fuck, asshole.” Gojyo rolled his eyes and scanned the menu. Nothing looked appetizing, but he picked out one of the flatbreads at random and ordered it, as well as a fresh drink. Sanzo glared at him, and Gojyo glared back. “What? I’ll wait 'til I get food to drink it. I thought we were here to drink and shit, I dunno.” He crossed his arms. “'Sides, I’d rather break your nose than break bread with you.”

“What the hell did I do to you?” Sanzo gulped down some of his drink without looking at Gojyo.

“You know what you did.” Gojyo’s eyebrows set into a scowl. “Break up with a good kid for no good goddamn reason.”

Sanzo set his drink down with a clink, harder than he meant to. “I had a good reason.”

Gojyo’s face and voice took heat. “Goku never did shit wrong to you.”

Sanzo sniffed, then drained his drink. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.” Gojyo spun on the stool to face him, but Sanzo ignored him as he hailed the bartender. “Huh, that’s what I thought.” Gojyo spun back around. “You’re chickenshit, and heartless to boot. Kid tells you he’s in love with you, and you don’t care. What, you that afraid of being tied down?” Sanzo was obviously avoiding Gojyo’s gaze now, and Gojyo just scoffed. “Fuck. He’s not even my type but I’d be a better boyfriend to him than you, if I dated kids.”

“What?” This got Sanzo’s attention, and he glanced over to Gojyo, eyebrow raised. “What the hell does that mean?”

Gojyo scoffed, rolling his shoulders back. “Not talking smack about the kid, but I don’t date younger than me. That’s it.” Then, he wagged his glass at Sanzo. “But, fuck, if I did, you bet I’d take the kid out for dinner and dancing, anything he wanted, 'cause he’s nice and he deserves someone to treat him nice!“

Sanzo snorted, but took a sip directly out of the fresh cup the bartender handed him. "Bullshit. Just take him out. You talk all that good shit, but you know you got a stash of 'barely legal’ spank rags somewhere.”

Gojyo actually shuddered. “Fuck, no.” Sanzo actually saw Gojyo get a little green, but he swallowed it hard and came back with a vicious glare at Sanzo. “Why, do you?”

“No. I don’t keep porn around.” Gojyo raised an eyebrow, and Sanzo sniffed derisively. “I don’t look for stuff to jerk off to. I actually have control over myself.”

“The fuck are you, a monk?” Gojyo hunched over in his seat, and Sanzo smacked his forearm.

“Asshole.”

Before the two could start trading barbs again, a waiter arrived with Gojyo’s food, and Sanzo watched Gojyo pick at it, actually feeling a touch of guilt at the obvious conflict on Gojyo’s face. He clearly didn’t want to eat, even if his stomach was empty and now audibly growling. He choked about half of it down, then pushed it over to share with Sanzo. Sanzo wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting with Gojyo, but he decided he shouldn’t have been surprised.

He was starting to feel a little numb to it, anyway. He had two empty glasses beside him, and Gojyo had one.

“So why did you do it, anyway?” Gojyo ran his finger around the rim of his second glass of Jack, as Sanzo considered the menu. “Come on. As far as I know, only thing that happened was the kid said he loved you.”

“I decided you were right about something.” Sanzo shrugged and folded the menu over, before hailing the bartender. “Rum and coke, on the rocks.” He shoved the menu back and stared at the backs of his hands. “I’m… not good for him. He needs someone… gentler.”

“Yeah, but he doesn’t want that.” Gojyo couldn’t keep a hint of misery from his voice. “He wants you.”

Sanzo accepted his drink and drained half of it, before answering, “Damn shame.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, drinking and not looking at each other, as faceless people began to fill in the empty spaces around them, the black walls obscured by a blur of motion, and the tight room began to feel even smaller. Gojyo remained unmoved by the slow swell in noise or what was surely at least a buzz of intoxication, downcast eyes, and Sanzo decided he had to say something: “I’m sorry. For what Hakkai did to you.”

“Why the hell are you apologizing?” Gojyo didn’t look up.

“Someone ought to.”

Gojyo heaved a sigh. “He did. Hakkai apologized. He was all hung up on it, I think he actually legit felt bad that he did it, or that he didn’t break up with me first, or something. I practically had to break up with me for him.”

“Shit.” Sanzo curled his hand tight around his drink. “Fuck, then I’m sorry my asshole brother did this.” If he’d had any less manners, he would have spat on the bar at having to call him that. “If I had a gun, I would have put a bullet between his eyes years ago.”

Gojyo raised an eyebrow at this. “But he’s your brother.”

“He’s a fucking asshole, is what he is.” Sanzo shook his glass at Gojyo, then emptied its contents into his mouth. “He’s toxic, and for no good reason. Maybe my dads just got to him too late, and foster care warped his brain, or he was just born fucked and learned to hide how fucked up he was until he decided to do something with it, but he’s fucked up and fucks up everything that’s good near him.” Gojyo hung his head.

“Then what was Hakkai even doing with him?”

“He’s a good actor, and fuck it, I’m not gonna lie, they had stuff in common. They’re both smart, and Hakkai… Hakkai used to harbor some misanthropy.” Sanzo stared at the ice melting from the heat radiating off his fingers. “He hardly liked anyone but his sister, and after they met, Nii. They could be miserable together, at least. I think watching Kanan die, seeing all the people helping her, or maybe just knowing that he was about to be alone in the world without her to lean on pushed him out of it. I think Nii saw him changing and hated it.” Gojyo hung his head, as Sanzo shoved his glass across the bar. “It’s not why they broke up, but it sure didn’t help.” He flagged the bartender. “Another.” The bartender took his glass, and Sanzo turned the stool around to face Gojyo. “You can blame Nii for this. He’s a manipulative bastard. I’ll bet he tricked Hakkai some way or another. Hakkai fell for it when he should’ve known better, but fuck, Nii still did it.”

Gojyo ducked down in his stool. “Nah. Probably not.”

“Nii’s a piece of shit, I wouldn’t put a damn thing past him.” Sanzo’s lip curled. “I told Hakkai, if you really don’t want him around, get a restraining order. I told my dads the same. Dad just said, 'he’s my son, too, so he’s my responsibility.'” Sanzo sneered, imitating Koumyou’s voice with obvious derision: “'If I give up on him, nobody will help him.’" Sanzo nearly spat back into his usual angry timbre: "Like the bastard wants help. He thinks we’re all fucked up and he’s the only one who’s right. Doesn’t matter. Dad won’t give up, even though P– Toudai has.”

Gojyo sucked his lip into his mouth and traced lines on the glass with his thumb, watching the condensation gather and drip down.  “I guess. I… I’d lost out a lot more if Jien had given up on me when I was a kid.” His eyelids sank for a moment as he thought about what he was losing out on now, but Sanzo lightly slapped his forearm.

“Don’t go there. You’re not like Nii.” Sanzo gave him a sharp look, then swiftly broke eye contact. “Thank your lucky stars for that.”

Gojyo wasn’t sure what to say to that. He just drained his drink and waved to the bartender to order another. “Jack, neat, and a beer. Something amber, if you got it.”

Sanzo had three empty glasses, Gojyo had three and an open bottle of beer. After a long drink from the mouth of the bottle, which Sanzo watched him take with envy plain in his gaze before snatching the menu and flipping through, Gojyo leaned back and let out a soft sigh. “Y'know…”

“Mm?”

“You think… maybe… if I…” Gojyo trailed off, his gaze tracing the curve of the bottle. “I wonder if maybe, if I’d talked to him…” He broke off, and Sanzo eyed him warily.

“Finish your damn sentence.”

Gojyo collapsed forward into a shrug. “Never mind.”

“I hate when people do that.” Sanzo punched Gojyo’s shoulder lightly, but he shrugged again. “Come on.”

“Nah, it ain’t like you care.” Gojyo hunched forward, elbows on the bar. “Nothing’d change.”

“So? Better than bottling whatever you’re thinking up.” Sanzo pulled a face, brow scrunched, mouth taught with dismay. “It’d help to talk about it. It might not change a damn thing, but it might feel better to get it out.”

“Fuck, Goku said that too.” Sanzo grimaced at this, and Gojyo shook his head again, not taking his eyes off of his drink. “But it’s fine. I’m fine. It doesn’t matter.”

“Whatever.” Sanzo snorted, glaring at Gojyo, his gaze traveling from his slumped arms over the subtle dejection barely masked by the bleak acceptance in his expression. “It’d matter to Hakkai.” Gojyo didn’t say anything, but he pursed his lips. “Look…” Sanzo struggled for a moment, but decided it had to be said: “He hasn’t been himself. He may have nobody to blame for that but himself, and perhaps he should be exactly as miserable as he’s acting, but he’s been a mess.”

This got a reaction out of Gojyo, his brow knitting up, drawing his arms in close. He shook his head. “Thought he’d be happy.” He drained the last of his beer and flagged the bartender for another, but when the bartender asked Sanzo what he wanted, Sanzo just shook his head, trying to untangle what Gojyo had said.

Gojyo drained his next glass of Jack in one long, long gulp, and though part of Sanzo was fascinated with the way his throat worked, the rest of him was counting the glasses beside him. When Gojyo next actually said anything, the alcohol was seeping out in every word: “You know, you really were a jerk to Goku. You didn’t have to be. He never did a damn thing wrong, did he?” Sanzo grunted, and Gojyo smacked at his arm, missed, then swung again to lightly slap at his elbow. “He was wafflin’ forever, y'know, on how to tell, if he should tell you. Of course you had a boyfriend thing, but it was way more than just fucking or dates or whatever it was you two did, he really liked you.” Gojyo scoffed with utter disgust. “Way more than you liked him, obviously.” Those words actually grated on Sanzo, and he shoved the half-empty glass away. He had no excuse for feeling as sore as he did from that half-meant insult other than his inebriation. Gojyo merely clicked his tongue and craned towards Sanzo again. “He was head over heels for you. The dumb kid had never dated before and for some reason, he fell for you hard and fast, and you had to know you were like this, why the fuck would you lead him on?”

“I didn’t,” Sanzo muttered without meaning to, his face falling. Gojyo wasn’t appeased, only looking angrier.

“Then why the fuck did you dump him if you weren’t just fucking with him in the first place?”

Sanzo exhaled slowly through his nose. “He should be with someone who loves like he does.”

“S'no excuse.” Gojyo shoved Sanzo’s arm. “Why’d you do it, you fucker? You haven’t said he did anything wrong, you’re sayin’ you broke up with him 'cause of you, but if it were you that was the issue, he’d’ve dumped you. What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Sanzo grunted, shaking his head. The answer ached in his chest, but he couldn’t say it, he wouldn’t say it. Gojyo slumped forward again, staring at his hands on the table. “He loved you, you bastard. He loved you like anything, and you just turned around and… none of it matters. He tells you he loves you, and it doesn’t matter. I try to keep my shitty history from fucking my life now up, and nothing matters. You fuck up good enough one time, and suddenly you’re yesterday’s trash.” Gojyo emptied his glass and slammed it back down on the bar. “I mean, fuck it!” He threw his hands in the air, loud like he didn’t care if anyone else could hear him. “He should'a dumped me! I just don’t get why he had to go and…” Gojyo motioned vaguely, and Sanzo couldn’t tell what he was trying to convey except that it was likely lewd, but he gave up, face contorted with disgust and upset. “I don’t even care that he did it, y'know? Fuck it, it’s not like I’m worth him, I ain’t earned him, why should anyone bother with me?” He huffed into the bar, his legs curling up under him. “Fuck, he could’ve at least told me if he wanted to go off and be happy with that guy instead of me.”

That couldn’t stand. “You’re not getting it.” Sanzo grabbed onto Gojyo’s shoulder and forced him to turn in the stool and look him in the eye. “Hakkai’s not 'with’ Nii, and he’s not fucking happy. Nii fucked him just so he could stomp on Hakkai’s heart one more time.”

Gojyo’s focus was fuzzy, pupils darting to and fro as they traveled Sanzo’s face, before he shook his head and blearily muttered, “Well, that ain’t fair.” He pulled away from Sanzo and hunched over again, staring blankly at his bruised knuckles. “He should be with someone who actually makes him happy.”

Sanzo swallowed, already knowing he was going to regret the next part. “That was you. You were the only person who made him mean it when he smiled.”

Sanzo had expected Gojyo to get angry, but instead, he sealed his lips, resigned. Then he raised his hand. “Another Jack. Make it a double please.”

Sanzo watched Gojyo drain another glass. His forehead gleamed in the yellow light from the bar, and Sanzo could already smell alcohol in his sweat. There was likely much more still in his bloodstream, and God, if he was already metabolizing and still looking this sloppy, he probably had already had way too much. Sanzo motioned to the bartender to cut Gojyo off, because he was sober enough to know he was tipsy and that they both needed to stop. Gojyo, however, laughed suddenly. “So, I’m just an idiot, huh?”

On any other night, Sanzo would have wondered why he was admitting it. However, he knew what Gojyo was talking about, and even so, gave him the same reply he would have if he didn’t: “Yeah, but I dunno what that has to do with anything.”

“That’s why… why he… with that guy…” Gojyo swallowed dryly, then licked at his lower lip. “It’s 'cause I’m an idiot, right?”

“You’re an idiot, but that has nothing to do with anything.” Sanzo nudged Gojyo’s elbow, and his arm buckled, leaving Gojyo slumped and swaying. “I told you. Hakkai gave you up because _he’s_ an idiot.”

“No.” Gojyo shook his head, hair drifting in the puddles of condensation on the bar. “No, it’s… the same… I’m not good enough. Never was. Never will be. Just…” He tossed the napkin from under the glass into the air and vacantly watched it drift to the floor behind the bar, missing the dirty look he got from the bartender. “Wasted his time. ’M a waste.”

Sanzo huffed. “You fucking moron, you–”

“I always get left,” Gojyo mumbled, drawing into himself even further, and Sanzo realized Gojyo probably couldn’t hear him anymore. “Why… why’d I think he’d be any different? I’m… I’m just not…” Sanzo listened, dumbfounded. Why couldn’t he have been Koumyou? Someone who could actually counter what he was saying, or help him work it out? Sanzo sucked at emotions and he knew it, and lucky fucking him, he’d found the exact right combination of alcohol, exhaustion, and misery to get Gojyo to spill his! Worse, Gojyo was starting to get pale and clammy, looking ready to spill something else. “I…” He heaved for breath, fingers scrabbling for purchase on his own knees before finally clutching his arms around his chest. “I… just wanted to be good enough for him…”

The room was getting louder, hotter, and Gojyo was imploding like a star that had burned too bright. Sanzo quickly counted the glasses next to Gojyo. Six, two empty beer bottles, fuck, the guy was completely hammered and if he was this bad now, he wasn’t going to get better. “We need to leave. Come on.” Sanzo grabbed a stack of cash out of his wallet and hailed the bartender, but Gojyo was still mumbling, more and more frantic by the second, and Sanzo managed to get the bill paid and get an arm around Gojyo to drag him to the door.

The storm broke when the door opened, and suddenly, Gojyo was collapsing to a heap on the concrete. “He threw me away! Like it didn’t matter!” Gojyo was crying, actual tears and all, simply out of strength to dam it all back a second longer. Sanzo cursed and tried to work him back to his feet to drag him to his car, but Gojyo, senseless and stripped of his defenses, protested with a wail, “I thought you’d let me stay!”

“Come on,“ Sanzo hissed, knowing Gojyo wasn’t talking to him anymore. He stumbled a step forward with Gojyo loaded against him, staggering into someone nearby to a round of swears. He ignored it, grimacing as he kept trying to drag Gojyo out with every heavy step, to his car, to somewhere safe, before he fell to the million pieces of himself he could no longer hold together and scattered on the ground like so much broken glass, more of him crumbling away with each plaintive cry:

"I thought you’d come back! You were supposed to keep me! You were my sign! You weren’t supposed to leave!”


	41. Your Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gat reconsiders. Gojyo reflects.
> 
> TRUST ARC - PART 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING FOR CANON-TYPICAL GORE.

**41: Your Truth**

Dawn had come and painted the floor of the bakery with soft, gray light. Sharak stepped out of the bakeshop to the front of the shop to stretch, yawning, but was startled for a moment as a shadow flashed over her view. She shook it off, then chuckled as the shadow moved along, as the janitor kept sweeping the floors. “Ah, I forgot you’d be here. You surprised me, Gat.” She rubbed the grit from her eyes, blinking her vision clear. Gat paused for a moment, holding the broom upright and straightening up.

“Usually, you’re leaving now.” Gat let a curious eye rove the contour of her face, bleached by the light from the window, and she chuckled.

“The usual morning manager’s been unwell.” She shrugged. “I’m covering for him until he can get it together, but really, I hope it’s soon.” She yawned again, then let herself loll against the counter, elbow landing next to the candy jars. “I’m much more used to the nights than the mornings, and I miss falling asleep with Hassan.”

Gat hummed. “Husband?” He paused, then averted his gaze. “Not to assume.”

“Eh, partner.” Sharak lifted both hands. “And I’m not shy about it. We’re the best of friends, he’s in love with me, I enjoy his company. We are both satisfied with what we have, and though I would be unhappy if he were to decide our situation is inadequate, I would not stop him if he desired more.”

“I see.” Gat returned to sweeping, and Sharak observed passively over the counter.

“Ah, but it seems unfair that you know me and I know so little of you. I hired you and I hardly know more than I knew in order to feel confident in that.”

“There’s little to know.” Gat didn’t halt sweeping, and Sharak laughed languidly.

“What about your other jobs?” Gat paused for a moment, as Sharak put her hands on her hips. “You said this was a third job, how do you manage that?”

“Timing.” Gat shrugged, and resumed the gentle, hypnotic swish of the broom across the tile. “Here in the early morning, garage from ten to six, and the restaurant at nights.”

Sharak whistled. “When do you sleep?”

Gat, again, shrugged. “Insomnia. Since I was a teenager.” Sharak muttered to herself in wonder, and Gat glanced over his shoulder. “I sleep in the morning between here and the garage, sometimes.”

“Good God, man.” Sharak clicked her tongue. “I suppose I envy that of you. I wish I didn’t need to sleep.”

Gat turned and kept at his task, not meeting Sharak’s eyes. “It’s helpful. Sometimes. If things need to get done. Sometimes, it’s too quiet.” He paused to sweep the debris he’d gathered into the dustpan, his motions deliberate. “Nice to keep busy, at least.”

“Is there anyone waiting for you at home, though?” Sharak canted her body forward onto the counter, watching as Gat wiped his hands on a dustrag, then grabbed the cleaning spray.

“Mm.” Gat’s face fell for a moment. “That’s…” He shook his head. “Yeah.”

“Ohh.” Sharak put a hand over her mouth as Gat began to spray and wipe down the tables. “And what is she like?”

“He’s…” Gat trailed off, and Sharak, eyes wide and cheeks sucked in with embarrassment, slowly rose to a stand again.

“I did not mean to assume. I’m sorry.”

Gat shook his head. “It’s… not that.” He put the rag down and smeared his hands off on his shirt. “He’s a college student. Works hard, too. He wants to get into law.”

“Ooh.” Sharak leaned in again. “That’s, er…” She sized Gat up, apprising him so obviously she may as well have been a numismatist with a magnifying glass. “You’re…”

“He’s younger than me.” Gat paused heavily. “By a lot. But it didn’t matter to him, and…” A smile slipped into place. “He was different.” He took up the rag and spray again. “I’m putting him through school. He’s got money from his family, but that’s going to dry up.”

“Ah, limited funds, the bane of all students.” Sharak clicked her tongue.

“Mm. I can’t ask him to work. He has classes and he volunteers for a good cause.” Gat gave the table a good swipe, then dried it off. “So, this is fine.”

“What, he can’t work at all? You have to grind your fingers to the bone?” Sharak crossed her arms, continuing to study Gat from around the counter. “I appreciate the hard work you do, but he must really be something for you to do this to yourself.”

Gat answered with a grunt, instead continuing to clean the tables. Sharak watched him, obviously waiting, and Gat put his rag down and faced Sharak. “In… in my culture…”

“You’re First Nations, right?” Sharak cocked an eyebrow, but Gat shook his head.

“Apache.” Gat pursed his lips. “Hazel… we met when his church came to volunteer at the reservation. There had been tornadoes, they were helping mend fences. He and I met, and…” Gat rubbed the back of his head and lowered his eyes. “I was drawn to him. He was enamored of me. We corresponded long distance for a while, and decided when he left for college, I would go with him.” He paused, lips pursed. “My family…”

Sharak, curious now, touched her lip, brows furrowed. “The traditional sort? I know how that can be.”

“Mm.” Gat hung his head. “The tribe disapproved, but my grandfather was accepting. He said that a man left his tribe when he married to join his wife’s family, and urged me to care for him like I would a wife.” Gat thumped his chest with his palm. “My duty is to care for him and his. I’ll do whatever I have to take care of him.” With that, he returned his focus to his tasks, and Sharak sighed.

"Full credit to your honor, good sir. Believe me, I appreciate that the floors are clean each morning, that the windows are not smudged, and our tables aren’t crumby, and best of all, that I don’t have to pull anyone from my team to make all of that happen, but you speak so highly of this young man, it seems a shame that even if you’re not tired enough to share your sleep with him, you don’t seem to make enough time to spend with him.”

Gat paused again, but kept his eyes low this time. “Mm.” He shook his head, and murmured, “He has a lot to learn. I’m giving him a chance to learn some lessons on his own.” He picked up again, not quite looking at Sharak. Sharak clicked her tongue.

“Guardian, protector, and husband, is it?” She shook her head. “Does he really want all that?”

This elicited half of a laugh. “No, but for now, he needs it. I want to watch him succeed, even if it is from here.”

“If you say so.” Sharak stretched her arms out again, then checked her watch. “I’ve got cakes in and muffins to put out. Do you want a snack of some sort?”

“No, thank you.” Gat kept his head low, kept his nose to the grindstone. He heard the bakeshop door swing shut behind her, then paused, rag in hand, and closed his eyes tight.

He’d been trying to let Hazel do what he’d thought was right, but it had become too hard to watch. He remembered his grandfather’s words again:

“ _Someday, you will leave us and cleave to another. When that day comes, Nenegatty, you will be her hunter, you will obey her family’s rules, and you will take care of her and everything that comes with her.”_

He’d never felt limited by the reservation, but talking to Hazel had made him curious about what lay beyond. Still, he remembered where he’d come from, and everything he’d learned from it. He kept his hair long, he remembered the old stories and their morals, and yes, he was doing everything he could to take care of the person whose camp he stood in. However, it had come time to acknowledge that he’d deliberately forgotten the harder parts of everything that meant.

Without a sound, he found his phone in his pocket and started to review all of the messages he’d made himself too busy to see.

This was no time to forget what was important.

* * *

_He still remembered her. He tried not to think of her, but he still remembered._

_He still remembered being tiny and staring up at her from flat on his back on the dusty ground outside of and under their trailer. Her long red hair, bound in a braid as thick as cord, still swayed in motion as she froze, petrified, above him, eyes wide, jaw agape. Her hand was still on the backswing, trembling in midair in the aftermath of her strike._

“ _Oh, Gojyo, baby–” She hitched back a sob, as he blinked back the pain radiating through his cheek._

“ _Mama, why?” He tried to roll up to a sit, then lifted a hand coated with a dust to touch where it hurt, but she swooped down, snatched his wrist and squeezed. “Ow!” Tears pricked at his eyes, and her expression didn’t change, twisted and contorted in horror, and he pushed in vain at the vise-grip she had on his arm. “Hurts!”_

“ _Oh, my baby,” she half-sobbed, half-gasped, wet trails already running down her face, then she dragged him up against her chest and threw the door open. Gojyo could see the two sharp points on the corner of the thin screen door, the bright silver of the worn edges dulled with a trace of his blood._

_Just one of the funny things about their home, Gojyo had thought. He and Mama had shared their tiny little house on wheels in the middle of a dusty plain, far out from even the other trailers. He stayed here most of the time, as she would leave and lock the door with a promise of, “Mama’ll be back.” Being left alone was okay for a little while: when they did go to town, usually with her carrying him on her bony shoulders, people stared at him and whispered about them. It made Mama sad, and he hated Mama sad. She always came back, sometimes with money with little numbers on them, sometimes with plastic bags of food, sometimes with boxes of canned beans and instant rice. Sometimes, she’d just send him to bed with his stomach growling. Sometimes, she would send him outside and have yelling phone calls with someone. Then, she’d come back and stare at him, not talking to him. Sometimes, he wondered if something was wrong. Like when she would just stare at him, eating when she hadn’t given herself anything, or watch him playing after her angry phone calls. When he would ask her what was wrong, she would just tousle his hair and force a weak smile._

“ _Mama loves you, baby,” she’d tell him, then whisper, “no matter what.”_

_She did, he knew it, she loved him, he was her good boy and her baby, so everything was okay._

_She was saying it now, too, “Mama loves you, everything’s okay, Mama loves you,” as she cleaned his face, holding the back of his hair like a lioness gripping her cub by the nape of its neck, and he watched, cheek stinging, unable to turn away, as red and brown drained into the sink and over the scratched up Sesame Street dishes left in the bottom. He shut his eyes tight. He wanted to believe when she said it was okay, but everything hurt so much today._

_The yelling on the phone had been louder today, and her voice, broken when she was screaming, was still hoarse in his ear._ _When Mama got loud, he’d just run further from the house, his action figure held high as he saved the day from the shadows of the patchy tall grass and the crow in the tree. She’d come out to watch him when she was done, and he ran up to her, and he’d been talking, and God, he couldn’t remember what it had been about, only that you were so loud, Mama, did something happen? Can I help, Mama? Why are you so mad? Did I do something?_

_And that was when she’d whipped around and screamed at him to shut up and brought her hand down, knocking him into the open door. That bottom corner had always been sharp, he’d scratched his leg on it a few times and had learned to skirt around it. He hadn’t caught himself in time, and oh, maybe that’s why his face was bleeding._

_She yanked him out of the sink, eyes wide as her gaze darted over him, over and over. His blood was on her sleeves, on her ragged pants, on her face where the water had splashed back mixed with the tears running down her face, and just as he reached out to wipe her tears away, she jumped back from him as if his tiny fingers could cut. She grabbed the gauze from over the toilet and pasted it on hastily with a few strips of papery tape, her hands shaking, mouth frozen in a warped half-sob, and she finally broke down crying when he rubbed the bandage._

“ _It doesn’t hurt no more,” he lied, trying not to flinch when he found the cuts under the bandage. “It’s okay, see?”_

“ _Oh, sweetie, n-no.” She tried to reach for him again, then flinched back, sobbing again, clapping both hands over her mouth and shaking in her shoes. “They’re gonna take him, they’re really gonna take him this time…”_

“ _Mama?” He moved to hug onto her as she continued to wail into her palms. Maybe she wasn’t kissing his hurt because it was bloody and stuff, but he wanted a hug, that was how it went. If he tripped and skinned his knee, she’d put a bandage on it and kiss it better, and he’d get a hug. If he wanted cornbread and there was no cornbread and he pitched a fit so she had to put him in the corner, she’d hug him after he apologized. He was hurt, she was hurt. Hugs made things okay._

_There was no hug. She grabbed his shoulder, keeping him at arm’s length, and whispered, “Mama’ll be back.” She pushed him back, pivoting for the door, and he watched as the screen door fell shut. He heard the lock click, heard her footsteps as she retreated from their single-wide. Something else hurt now, deep in his chest, but maybe there would be a hug when she came back. It would be okay._

_So he waited. His cheek still throbbed, but he ignored it as best as he could, playing with his battered old action figures. When he got bored, he crawled up to the loft to the bed they shared and traced all the blue triangles on Mama’s quilt. “Mama,” he muttered to himself, imagining the word in the jagged angles of each shape. She’d told him, this was a present that Mama’s Papa gave to her Mama when she was born, that was what her people did, it was a naming gift. Her name meant “clear water” in her language, and all the triangles were cresting waves in a wild river. He’d asked why his Papa hadn’t given her a quilt for him too, and she’d said it was because he wasn’t their people and his name wasn’t in their language, and why would he do anything like that anyway, and then she’d been angry for a long time. Now, he counted the triangles as he traced them, as high as he could go, wishing every time he got back to the corner he started at that Mama would come back, come back, come back._

_But she hadn’t. The prairie went pink and red with sunset, his stomach growled against the quilt, and Mama wasn’t back. He wasn’t sure how long it had been, only that it had felt like forever. He went and watched the door, stretching his fingers out and wanting, as desperately as he could, for the door to creak and swing open and for her to come in with cornbread and hot dogs and a hug to make everything okay again, but she didn’t come._

_Maybe he should wait outside, just so he could be a few steps closer to getting the hug, to everything being okay._

_He bit his lip at the thought. He wasn’t supposed to, not when she wasn’t home._

_But sometimes, she’d send him out to play alone, and she’d always come for him some time._

_He could reach the lock if he got onto the tippiest-top of his tippy-toes, and he pushed the door open, scooting carefully around the sharp corner of the metal door, and looked around. The birds were calling in the distance, shouting down the sun, and when Gojyo looked up towards the stars, he could see them all flying in circles overhead. Curious, he began to run in circles too, bigger and bigger around the house, until he finally looped around behind the house and saw all the birds gathered around the spindly old tree._

_And Mama._

_Mama was laying on the ground under the tree with a broken branch in front of her, flat on her belly like she was sleeping, and all the birds, big ugly black ones and the bald ones with brown wings, were flying around her and landing on her. Pecking at her! She's being attacked! She must be so scared! Gojyo sucked in a breath, and ran at the birds and Mama, yelling as loud as he could:_

“ _LEAVE HER ALONE!” The birds screamed and hollered, but they scattered at his scream, and Gojyo bent down over Mama. “They’re gone. You don’t hafta hide anymore. Are you coming home now?”_

_Mama didn’t answer. She should probably move, there was an awful dark puddle under her, she was probably all wet and muddy. Gojyo cocked his head and shook her shoulder, moving the thick cord of her hair. Her belt was tied to the broken branch in front of her, and the other end was looped around her neck, and when Gojyo touched her stiff shoulder, he could see an ugly purple bruise on her neck. He couldn’t understand why she was wearing it that way or why she’d decided to break the tree like that, but maybe she would tell him. “Mama, get up so you can come home. S'lonely in the house without you.”_

_Mama didn’t say anything._

_He tried to roll her over from her side to her back, and winced, because she had a cut now too, a big one on her tummy. The stupid birds had been picking at her like they picked at the squirrels on the road! “Mama’s not a squirrel,” he grumbled, and prodded at the thick rings of red stuff hanging out of the cut, thick like the braid of her hair. Something told him that was supposed to be inside her, so he carefully, carefully poked everything back in, tugged her shirt down over it, then kissed the part of her tummy that hadn’t been cut. Her shirt was wet and red and smelled like metal. “All better! Can ya get up now?”_

_She didn’t. Her eyes were closed, but Gojyo could still see the little streaks where she’d been crying. “It’s okay. I’m not mad. I’m sorry I made you push me.” He sat down and curled up, knees tight to his chest. “I’ll wait right here for you, like you always say. Please come back.”_

_And so he waited._

_The sun went down, the night fell swiftly. He forgot he was hungry. The air got cold fast, too fast, and Gojyo pulled his skinny legs in and shivered in the night air. Mama was probably cold, too, wasn’t she? He tromped back inside, grabbed her quilt from the loft, and threw it over her, tucking it around her. “Warm an’ cozy, Mama.” He petted her hair like she did to him, her thin fingers running down the long strands of his hair. He turned her cheek to kiss her goodnight, and that was when he noticed her eye was gone._

_The stupid crows probably took it. Mama told him stories about the crows: tricksters and thieves. He whimpered at the thought, and looked around the plain a few times. Maybe it was still here, hidden in the grass where the crows nested. Maybe he could find it and give it back. Some crows had magic, maybe she needed her eye back to break a curse. Would she come back if he gave it back? He kept his arms folded tight to his chest and ventured into the prairie to find out._

_Mama had told him their people were hunters, once, that the men hunted and the women took care of the camp, and the men and women took care of each other. He had figured out that he was only half that, but maybe it was enough. He’d never had a Papa, not like Mama’s Papa, but if he could do this, it might be enough._

_The sun rose and fell twice. The day was hot, but Gojyo never stopped hunting for Mama’s eye. Sometimes, when he went away, the crows and vultures would circle around her again, and he’d have to run them off. His face itched in the heat, but that was probably just because Mama hadn’t kissed it better yet. All the more reason to keep trying to fix her._

_The moon rose twice and fell once. Gojyo didn’t want to take the quilt from Mama, she had to be so cold! He huddled up next to her, knowing he couldn’t sleep yet. He was her good boy, he would make her happy, and everything would be okay._

_He’d been resting, curled up next to Mama with his chin on his knees, tired from looking, tired from running back to chase the nasty birds away over and over, tired from being so hungry he’d forgotten he was hungry, and Mama still wasn’t back. It was night again, and cold, and dark, and though he thought he might have fallen asleep a few times, he was still so tired. All of a sudden, there was a growl from nearby and it was bright, too bright, and Gojyo looked up to see two bright circles, hotter than the daytime sun on his skin, beaming from a car rumbling nearby._

“ _What’s wrong, boy?” He could see the silhouette of a broad-brimmed hat, a big man in a cowboy hat and big boots, and a third circle of bright shining on him from the flashlight in his meaty hand. “What’re ya doin’ out here? Where’s your Ma?” Then, the third circle moved over to Mama, and tumbled to the ground, the flashlight’s beam splayed out wide over the cracked earth. “Mary, mother of God.”_

_More cars came, lots of black and white cars, and soon, people. People from the tribe, all with their long hair, carrying the scent of whiskey, all staring at Mama where she lay. The man in the cowboy hat had shoved him in the back of the first car and gave him water and a granola bar, but he didn’t want them, he wanted Mama._

_He could hear them all talking, “God damn Pavati,” “Guess the town bicycle’s had her last ride,” “Well, that boy sure as hell ain’t mine, so I ain’t got nothin’ to do with him,” but he didn’t understand any of it. He didn’t understand why the big white box car with the red plus on the side was scooping Mama up in sheets, but when the man in the cowboy hat wearing the six-pointed star came back, he asked, “Where’re they takin’ Mama? When’s Mama coming back?”_

_The man – the sheriff, Gojyo would later realize – shook his head. “Son, I don’t know how else to tell you this, but your Mama ain’t comin’ back.”_

_With those words, everything else became a blur, Gojyo’s memories swallowed by grief, blinded by pain, and the sound of his own voice, crying and screaming, wanting her to hear him, begging, begging her, “MAMA, NO! COME BACK!”_

_And somehow, in all of that, one voice rang clear in his head, one nameless sheriff’s offhand remark: “Guess that halfbreed boy of hers just wasn’t worth sticking around for anymore.”_

_And Gojyo screamed and screamed for his mother, the only one who’d ever been there…_

Gojyo shot awake to the scream of his own heartbeat in his ears. Poison rose up into his throat, and he barely had time to find the trash can left at his side before everything he’d poured into himself the night before rocketed out of him. His throat, nose, and eyes stung, and he could barely hear a soothing voice over his shoulder:

“That’s alright, better out than in.”

He caught his breath, and a slim hand reclaimed the bin as Gojyo cleared his eyes and blew his nose, then squinted around to find he was in Koumyou’s study, under a blanket on the leather sofa, and the entire room reeked of sweat and alcohol. Or maybe that was just him. Koumyou himself returned from emptying the bin with a glass of water and aspirin, and his usual placid smile. “You will want these.”

Gojyo was about to say something, but his head throbbed when he opened his mouth again, reminding him that it had been aching since he’d woken up. He zipped his mouth shut tight and nodded curtly a few times, and mumbled gratitude as he took the medicine and drank the entire glass of water. Koumyou smiled with approval and pulled his leather chair around to face him. “I imagine you’re a bit confused. Kouryuu brought you here; apparently you became a bit hysterical after overindulging in alcohol, and he had wanted to take you home but did not know where you lived. As you were in no state to give your address, and since he is aware you live alone and likely shouldn’t wake alone, he asked me to mind you.” Koumyou chuckled, as Gojyo, dumbfounded, nodded a few times. He made a mental note to thank Sanzo for not letting him choke on his own vomit, one he was pretty sure he’d forget, but shit, it was the thought that counted, right?

“Now, then,” Koumyou went on, brisk and breezy as ever, “Can I get you something solid to eat? Nothing heavy, of course, and I’m worthless in the kitchen – toast and jam? Just toast?” Gojyo shook his head, knowing he couldn’t trust his stomach right now and his appetite was dead anyway.

Every time he blinked, he saw birds and guts and the water in his throat tried to drown him.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Koumyou couldn’t quite hide his disappointment, or maybe it was genuine concern, under his professional tones. Gojyo couldn’t tell. “At any rate, you’re only a bit late for our previous appointment.”

This worked a word out of Gojyo: “Appointment?” Koumyou smiled, as if this were mundane and it was funny that Gojyo was even asking.

“We have a standing appointment, don’t we?” Koumyou indicated the calendar with a wave, and Gojyo realized he meant their therapy sessions. The blood drained from his face and hands, leaving him cold and clammy. “I did try to call you when you were late, but–”

“My phone’s busted,” Gojyo muttered, and let his head sink into his hands. Fuck. He couldn’t do this, not now. He was still sick to his stomach, and Koumyou wouldn’t do anything but leave his head spinning. “I… I can’t.”

“Nonsense. We’re both here, and I dearly wish to speak with you. I imagine you have much to say. Just like I told you: better out than in.” Koumyou kept his smile in place as he took up his little notepad, crossed one leg over the other as a makeshift desk, and Gojyo crossed his arms, closing himself in.

“I’m not in a talking mood.”

“Ah? Unfortunate. I am.” Koumyou tapped his lip with the end of his pen. “Where do you wish to begin? You could let me pick, of course, but this is for you, not me.” Gojyo shook his head.

“I just wanna go back to sleep.”

“I’d rather keep you lucid; you did imbibe rather heavily, and I can only imagine you did so on an empty stomach.” Gojyo cringed, but tried to make it look like a scowl. Koumyou flicked the end of the pen back and forth. “Kouryuu told me you and Hakkai have ended your relationship. That’s unfortunate; he seemed to make you happy.”

Gojyo licked his lips, then forced calm into his voice. “Yeah. Well. Guess you want the dirty details. He went back to his ex. I stepped aside so he could be happy. No point in fighting once someone else makes that choice. That’s all I got.”

Koumyou clicked his tongue. “Is that true? Remember, if there is something causing you pain inside, the only way to cure it is to let it out.”

“Huh. The way I see it, ripping it all out of you just tears the wound bigger.” Gojyo crossed his arms. “Fuck, people keep trying to make me talk, but it doesn’t help or change a damn thing.”

“Ah, so you have been talking to others? I should be jealous, shouldn’t I?” Koumyou giggled weakly, but sat forward, still very obviously interested. “And what have you been telling them?”

Gojyo sealed his mouth tight, knowing Koumyou would just twist around any answer he gave. “It doesn’t matter.”

“I think it matters. It matters very much to me.” Koumyou switched legs, crossing the other over the top and leaning his clipboard on it. He had already written a lot, and somehow that annoyed Gojyo just as much as the fact that he was still smiling. _Smirking_. “Remember, I am here to help.”

“I didn’t ask for help. I don’t need help.”

“I’m offering it nonetheless.” Koumyou shrugged, his voice as even and temperate as ever, and that stung even more. It was easy to get angry when someone was yelling back at you, but Koumyou’s calm just made him feel like he was spitting fire at a wall. “My goal is to encourage you to understand yourself such that you can express yourself and become comfortable in your own skin. This is with or without Hakkai.” Koumyou leaned in as Gojyo ground his teeth together. “Perhaps yes or no questions will be easier. Can you admit that bottling things up and ignoring your difficult emotions is making your life more difficult?”

“I already said, it doesn’t matter.” Gojyo kicked his feet out and folded his arms tighter. Koumyou shook his head.

“That was neither a ‘yes’ nor a 'no,’ I’m afraid. Gojyo, do you think you will be able to accomplish your goals in life if you continue to struggle the way you have?”

“What goals?” Gojyo huffed. “I got a job. I got a roof over my head. I get by. That’s all there really is. Maybe I wish there was more, but there isn’t. Not for me.”

“Ah, my.” Koumyou sighed, but it sounded insincere and Gojyo felt the flames burn hotter in his chest. He wasn’t sure what would come out of him if Koumyou pushed him any further, but of course, Koumyou had to press: “Do you truly think that giving up on wanting more will give you happiness?”

“I told you already!” Gojyo jumped to his feet, head spinning, stomach churning, fists clenched, and poison in his throat. “It doesn’t matter! Happy, sad, pissed, whatever, it doesn’t matter! Shit, you really think fucking with my brain is gonna change a damn thing about my fucking life?!” He stomped his feet, arching over Koumyou. “So what if I’m sad! So what if I’m pissed off! A guy gets what he deserves, don’t he?! I deserved what I got! I reached for the fucking sun and got burned like I ought'a!” He ground his teeth together, rage only inflated by Koumyou’s flat expression. It was like Koumyou wasn’t hearing him! “No amount of _feelings_ and _emotions_ and _communications_ are gonna change the fact that I just ain’t good enough to keep!” Saying it out loud broke something in him, like a bubble out of the mouth of a man drowning, and he slowly deflated. “And I’m never gonna be good enough. That’s… that’s why everyone gives up.” He sank back down, his hips sinking into the cushion, his head falling to his chest. “You’re wasting your time on me. None of this matters.”

“Ah.” Koumyou dropped his pen and tossed his pad aside. “I see. You draw your pattern and it remains unbroken, and you simply resign yourself to what you have now because you no longer see the point in moving past your roadblocks.” He held his hands up, smiling as broad as ever, except Gojyo no longer had the will to get angrier at him for it. “Sink your ships and burn the harbors, you’ll go to war no more, is that it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Gojyo shook his head. “What do you want me to do?”

“I’m not asking you to do anything.” Koumyou clapped his hands together and laced his fingers. “I wanted you to communicate with me. The problems I see, and yes, I do see some troublesome patterns in your thinking, are not so simple as a crossed wire or a broken bulb.” He tapped his forehead. “It’s in our minds, Gojyo, and we think in words. You must untangle the words and replace the faulty thoughts to make your mind run correctly.”

“It’s bigger than words.” Gojyo rubbed his eyes. His brain was aching to the eye sockets. “I can’t just think right, if nothing else is working right. It’s not that simple.”

“No, it’s not.” Koumyou lifted his shoulders to his ears, then rested his arms on the rests of the chair. “But anything worth having comes with a challenge, don’t you think? From staying on a positive path to succeeding in love, there will be challenges to overcome.” Gojyo bit his lip, chest aching as Koumyou vaguely gestured. “Small things, like difficult customers or tough economic straits or incompatible tastes in food or music, to a betrayal of trust, these are hurdles that must be jumped. However, your solution, from what I can tell, is to lay down in front of your bigger hurdles and not to face them at all. You put up the white flag.” Koumyou rested his cheek against his hand and heaved a sigh as Gojyo tried to dam the ache back in his chest, curling forward onto his thighs. “Are you frightened of failing? That you’ll trip and get hurt again? You will never know how far you can go unless you’re willing to try.”

“I’ve tried,” Gojyo hissed, then slammed his fists down on the cushion beside him. “I did try, damn it! And all I ever get is hurt for it! I stick my neck out, but everyone I reach for just fucking vanishes and it’s all my fucking fault no matter how I look at it, and there ain’t shit I can do about it!”

Koumyou heaved another sigh, this one carrying the weight of the moon. “Is that your truth, then? I’m very sorry for that.” He uncrossed his legs and got to his feet. “If that’s your immutable truth, then that’s fine, but I’m afraid there’s nothing more I can do for you.” He crossed the room to the bookshelf. “A parting gift, perhaps.” He selected a thin tome and held it out for Gojyo, and Gojyo realized he’d never seen Koumyou without a smile on before. It was making him queasy all over again, but Koumyou didn’t seem to notice his expression twist with pain. “Here.” Koumyou gently nudged the book into his palm: “Easy Meals For One.” The little tome was emblazoned with reviews promising recipes that were simple enough for beginners, but Gojyo couldn’t even decode that much. Koumyou, however, broke into a smile again. “I’m going to be living alone soon, you see –  or at least, I thought I was, though it seems Kouryuu will be with me a bit longer. But I thought I’d teach myself to cook.” He giggled a bit, backing away as Gojyo turned the book over in his hands a few times. “Trouble is, Toudai’s spoiled me with rich foods and exotic flavors. I didn’t care for those recipes, but perhaps you’ll like them.” Koumyou turned from him, folding his arms over his chest. “If nothing else, perhaps learning to cook for yourself will be a nice distraction until the pain eases.”

That cut through to Gojyo somehow – he was just throwing him away, like everyone else had. “Screw you, old man.” He jumped up to his feet, stomach and head aching with every step, then threw the study door open, and stormed out. Koumyou didn’t turn to watch them, instead moving to the window to watch as Gojyo skulked off into the dim, cloudy morning. He heaved a deep sigh, then pinched the bridge of his nose.

The study door creaked open slowly. Koumyou didn’t have to turn to know who was there; his presence as familiar as dust in a library, as cool and calm as the peace between the pages of a book. “Dearest?” Toudai slid his hand onto Koumyou’s shoulder, and Koumyou shook his head.

“It’s nothing, darling.”

Toudai hummed, clearly unconvinced, then wrapped his arms tight around Koumyou. “I suppose I owe you an immense debt of gratitude.” He pressed his cheek against Koumyou’s over his shoulder, then kissed the curve where his jaw met his ear. “I’m glad I was worth fighting for.”

Koumyou relaxed into his embrace. “My love, despite it all, you were very much worth all of our struggles.” He didn’t turn into Toudai’s embrace but instead leaned back into his chest, and kept a weather eye to the window. “I can only hope that those who come after us are ready to fight the same uphill path towards happiness, no matter how great the obstacle may look from how low he stands.”

* * *

Fuck Koumyou. Fuck Koumyou for thinking he could help when he didn’t understand the first damn thing about him. Fuck Sanzo for taking him home, fuck Sanzo for taking him drinking. Fuck.

Gojyo couldn’t sort his head as he walked for the nearest intersection. He didn’t know what time it was, the cloud cover obscuring the angle of the sun, he didn’t know what to do about the ache in his head and gut, the ache that was his entire body. Every time he blinked, he was seeing birds flocking on his eyelids and blood pooling at the edges of his perception, and when he could catch his breath at the corner of the cross-streets, his lungs burned.

Cigarette, fuck, he needed a cigarette. That was why his hands were shaking, why they kept shaking as he found his lighter and the crushed box in his pockets. Even a messy cigarette was better than the goddamned withdrawal shakes. He took the first drag, exhaled, and felt some of the tension ease. It was habit, addiction, compulsion, and that little return to form was enough to shake a few things into place.

One, that it was fine, none of that mattered, he was still alive so _this was fine, everything is_ _ **fine**_.

Two, it was a weekday, and he probably should have been at work hours ago, because that was what he was supposed to do with himself. He looked to the street sign, discerning where he was, and steeled himself for a long walk across town to the garage.

The clouds continued to gather overhead, and Gojyo could already imagine the drum of rain on the skylights, he could feel it pounding into him. He could imagine the weight of the sky, heavier with every step, but it didn’t matter, he still had something to do, he had a purpose, he had something. The garage was in sight, but he took the long way around the back so he wouldn’t have to walk past the bakery window. He wasn’t sure what he looked like, but whatever it was, there were a few people he wouldn’t want to lay eyes on him right now.

He kicked the back door to the garage open, and Goku startled from the workbench as Gojyo strode in and past him without looking at him. Gojyo could feel Gat’s eyes burning on his back as he dumped his jacket on the stool by the bench and strode for the coveralls hung in the breezeway. However, Gat moved into his path just as he got there. Gojyo turned up towards him with a glare, but he tried to soften it with what he hoped was a self-confident smirk. “Somethin’ I can do for ya?”

“Leave.” Gat grounded himself, arms crossed, and Gojyo felt the rage bellows back into him, only barely keeping his cool:

“It’s not my day off.”

“It needs to be.” Gat didn’t budge, didn’t even flinch at Gojyo’s utterly feral mien. “I can smell alcohol on you–”

“Yeah, you’d know about that, wouldn'cha?” There was acid in it, acrid resentment, but Gat was unmoved and unmoving.

“You’re still drunk or hung over. I can’t let you near a customer’s car.” Gat seemed to only get bigger as he inhaled, and Gojyo would have thrown himself at the wall of his chest like an ocean beating against a dam if he thought it’d have done any good. Instead, he arched his back like a feral cat and craned his neck out, hissing.

“And who gave you the goddamn right to tell me what to do?”

Gat held up his keyring. “I’m a keyholder. De facto manager in your absence. You weren’t here this morning, I stepped in. I am asking you to leave for your own sake.” Gat put his keys away, crossed his arms again, and seemed to draw himself up even taller, but spoke softer: “You look exhausted. Go rest. It’s for your own good.”

Gojyo couldn’t even growl a retort, too sore and sour for a comeback. Instead, he spat: “Guess I can’t even make myself useful.” He clenched his fist tight, then bit his tongue and about-faced. He caught Goku flinch as he snatched his jacket up, but only turned when he cleared his throat.

“Your keys, boss.” Goku averred his gaze but pointed towards one of the pegs on the wall when Gojyo looked towards him. “Um, unless you’re not sober enough to drive.”

Gojyo snatched his keys without saying a word to him. He knew he didn’t have anything nice to say to the poor kid. He was sure there was nothing nice left in him at all.

Gojyo drove back home on muscle memory alone, blinded with the kind of fury that wouldn’t subside. Cigarettes wouldn’t quell his shaking hands this time, and he struggled to unlock the door to his flat, shoving the door open and slamming it shut behind him. The laundry strewn over his futon and coffee table slid off, the dishes in the sink rattled, and the throw pillow on his futon tumbled to the ground as he stormed past. His walls were exposed brick, covered with old posters and photographs he’d taken with Jien on the family trip they’d taken when Gojyo first got returned to him, but he tore them off the putty tacking them to the stone. He couldn’t stand to look at his own smile. He kicked his ratty coffee table, toppling the magazines off of it. Why bother with any of it? Why did he keep anything? None of it mattered! “Fuck it,” he growled, shredding down a poster of a distant desert. “What the fuck is even the point?!” He threw his jacket off and pitched it at the wall as hard as he could, but something solid made impact, and rustled to the ground. Koumyou’s book.

Gojyo stalked across the room to snatch it back up, flipping through the pages. Chicken Pot Pie. “For one.” Beef stir-fry. “For one.” Macaroni casserole. “Enough for two meals for one.” His breath hitched in his throat. “You fucking bastard, I’m just gonna be alone forever! Is that what you’re telling me?!” He threw the book at the wall, but as the spine hit and the book fluttered to the ground, it hit him:

“I told him that.” And that realization, that those were what the words he’d said meant, that it was what he’d known all along, hit him like a punch to the gut. His knees fell out from under him, his voice watery and foreign to his own ears. “Because they leave. And I’m alone. I’m just always going to be alone.” His stomach turned again, and he lurched into the bathroom as the water he’d forced down rebelled back up. He barely made it to the sink.

He rinsed his face and nose, then went to check himself in the stained, grimy mirror above the faucet handles. He didn’t know the face staring back at him. This person wasn’t him, wasn’t who he wanted to be, and he didn’t even know who that person was.

It just wasn’t this. It wasn’t him.

Gojyo wound his fist back and put it through the mirror. The mirror shattered, the glass split through his knuckles, but _he didn’t care._ Blood dripped red down his hand into the sink and onto the floor, _but fuck that guy._ Gojyo didn’t want to look at him anymore. “I’m not gonna be him anymore,” he growled, then stalked back into the kitchen and grabbed the scissors from the drawer and back to the bathroom. He stared at the blades, his heart palpating through his shirt, breathing ragged as he braced himself. He could barely breathe, the world around him greying out like he was suffocating. He was suffocating. He was choking on his existence.

“Then this is my fucking truth!”

He wound his hair around one fist and chopped all of it off in two big snips. His head spun, the blood rushing away and draining out, and for a second, he thought he saw white light. Then, he dropped his hair in the trash and rinsed the blood off of his hand.

He managed to wrap his hand in gauze, barely flinching as he picked all the glass he could see out. His heartbeat was slowing down, and he could breathe just a little easier. _This is my truth_ , he told himself as he taped the gauze in place, then found Koumyou’s book on the ground and picked it up. “I’ll learn to live with it, and I’ll be okay.”

Just like before, he would repeat it until it was true.


	42. A Spark of Inspiration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hakkai finds something he didn’t realize he still had.
> 
> TRUST ARC - PART 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING FOR SUICIDAL IDEATIONS. Oh Hakkai, I promise things will get better for you soon...

**42: A Spark of Inspiration**

It was fortunate, so Hakkai thought, that he had the foresight to break down and keep all the boxes he’d used when he was moving in the bakery supplies. They were coming in tremendously handy now.

All of Hakkai’s shirts and sweaters fit in two boxes. Hakkai wrote Sanzo’s name on it, anticipating, “He’s a bit smaller than me, but… perhaps he’ll still like them.” His slacks fit in an empty stand mixer box. Sanzo had a narrow waist, so they wouldn't suit him, but some tall, thin man would like appreciate them second-hand.

His little tchotchkes, the little knick-knacks he’d picked up on his occasional trips here and there, Koumyou liked those sorts of things, so he wrapped each one in tissues and leftover bubble wrap and packed them neatly. His books, too, but he took less care with them, the hardcovers on bottom and the paperbacks on top, then marked both boxes with his name.

The kitchen, Toudai would like his kitchen goods for however long he had left to enjoy them. He packed the pots and pans, wrapped up nice and neat, and sealed them, writing his name clearly so he would see it, hoping he would understand when he wasn’t there to explain.

It was all so simple, so obvious, a mere calculation of common sense and best intentions. Cut and dry. It had to be that way. Hakkai had found it surprisingly easy to plan it all out, he just had to calmly arrange everything in such a way that it could be easily dealt with when it was no longer in his hands. Like Sharak making certain all the breads were in the proof box before she left, like preparing the day’s orders the day prior, trusting that whoever came next would take care of things. A simple, mundane reality.

Then, it was the aprons. Hakkai had assumed most of the pantry supplies would, sadly, go to waste, but perhaps someone would like his aprons. He’d somehow accumulated a few, though he could only wear one at a time; capricious, wasteful, he thought now. They’d made him so happy when he could rotate through them based on his mood, the lemon pattern with the polka-dot straps for making fruit salads, the red pinstripes for grilling steak, the red and green one just for Christmas cookies. His fingers shook as he took down his favorite apron, the green vines that suited his eyes and tastes so well, and stuffed it into the box with less care than the rest, then halted when he found a plain black apron beneath.

His heart twisted in his breast. Even touching it reminded him of the man who favored it, of his crooked smile, of his wine-warm eyes, the fall of his hair across his shoulders and back, his clumsy fingers warm when Hakkai would slide his hands over the backs of his palms and guide him through. Suddenly, Hakkai couldn’t breathe, he was dissociating, he was trying to be _there_ not here, even though _he knew he would never be there again_. He threw the apron back and stumbled back. “Stop, stop,” he told himself, clutching at his head, throat constricting around the words. His head was so full, the room was too full, even the boxes lined up on the floor were too much.

It was a noise that broke him out of it: “Mrowr?” Ryuu was winding around his ankles, and Hakkai startled back to the present.

“Oh.” He crouched and picked him up, stroking his chest and belly, “Oh, it’s you.” He carried him towards the sofa, deliberately stepping around the black apron and keeping his eyes on him. If he buried his fingers in the soft, downy fur down his back, his fingers couldn’t shake. “My pretty kitty,” he whispered, muttering praise with no joy in his timbre. He settled on the sofa, as Ryuu, clearly happy to be receiving any sort of attention and completely unable to understand Hakkai as he wondered: “What to do with you, little one?” Ryuu mewed back as if in answer, curling around in Hakkai’s lap and turning to groom his hands and palms. Hakkai winced as Ryuu licked across his wrists, his rough tongue abrading the bruised skin. Hakkai had tried to keep them covered, but the bruises were still ugly shades of yellow and purple and the cuts were still raw and wept if he bent his hands the wrong way. He tried to tug his sleeves over them, ashamed to have them, even more ashamed that anyone would want to give them attention. The very thought made his hands start to shake again. “Ryuu, no.” He kneaded down Ryuu’s back, distracting him from trying to clean the thin little lines of blood that stained his cuffs. Poor, silly thing, he couldn’t understand.

“I’m sorry, little one.” He ran his palm down Ryuu’s back. “I had meant to give you a good life. It seemed like serendipity that I would meet someone as singular as you in as dire of straits as we did, but… ah, that’s never worked for me, has it?” He stroked Ryuu a few times more, silently considering his silky fur, his curious trills. “I should… Perhaps I should rehome you, instead of just putting a bit of masking tape with a name on it on your side and hoping for the best.” He tried to laugh, but the sound was hollow and wrong, and Ryuu twisted around to study him. That wrought the guilt that lived in him. “I’m so sorry, Ryuu.” He rubbed the shallow fur between Ryuu’s eyes, and Ryuu closed his eyes with contentment, until Hakkai ruffled down his mane, murmuring, “I can’t stay with you anymore.” Ryuu responded by rubbing his chin against the bottom of Hakkai’s palm, as if marking him, but Hakkai just massaged his face, trying to wick what happiness he could out of his furry friend. It didn’t rebuff the feeling that joy was dead. “I… You’re all I have left of him now, aren’t you?” Ryuu rubbed his cheek into Hakkai’s palm, as the memory struck like a bolt.

Gojyo driving him to the shelter, of entreating him to pick a friend, of Ryuu hissing at Gojyo as soon as looking at him, of Gojyo’s content smile at seeing Hakkai so happy nonetheless. And yet, it had all happened for the silliest reason:

“So I wouldn’t be lonely.” Hakkai absently scratched Ryuu’s ears. “I lived alone, just my own paltry little soul in this house, and he worried that I was lonely. I told that silly joke about getting a cat so many times he believed it, he thought I meant it, and he led me to you so I could be happy…” His breath hitched, the words garbled up around his too-thick tongue, and he clenched down on Ryuu’s mane, resulting in an unhappy noise from Ryuu. His heart was starting to tremble, beating far too fast, his skin clammy and raising in goosebumps, and he couldn’t breathe. “Oh, Gojyo…” He shivered through his panic. “You meant so well for me. You were so wonderful, so kind, so gentle, and I…” His breath hitched, then failed. “I… You… Why did you even…”

Ryuu rubbed his chin against Hakkai’s hand again, and the jingle of Ryuu’s tag broke Hakkai from his dissociation. “Ah.” He blinked a few times. “He said… he put my number on here. So you could come back to me if you got away somehow.” He choked on a watery chuckle. “I’ll have to… I should take that back. You’ll have a new place to call home soon.” He gently worked the tag loose of the collar, a little red heart. He turned it over in his hand, running his eyes over the text for the first time:

“ _If found, return to Hakkai. 530-938-7858. All my love, Gojyo.”_

Hakkai’s hands started to shake again. He couldn’t have read that right. “Love?”

Gojyo had never said that word to him. Nobody did.

“Love.”

Not Father, who would only withdraw himself from alcohol and work to glare at him and Kanan, to whisper that they looked so much like their mother and skulk away.

“Love.”

Kanan, yes, but her love had withdrawn when she realized how deep, how dark, how desperate his love and need to be loved back was, and then had withered away with the rest of her.

Nii, never. Hakkai had wished he could be loved, but he had sunk so low to think that their shared antipathy for anyone they agreed was lower than them was a good substitute. Someone he could hate with.

Gojyo was nothing like that.

“Love.” Hakkai couldn’t breathe again, barely able to squeak, “All of it?”

Hakkai had never wanted anything more, and it had been waiting right under his nose.

Had Gojyo just never said it? Had he hoped Hakkai would see this and understand? Had he been too shy to say it first? Terrified that Hakkai would reject him, as if he weren’t a deep void of affection so desperate to be filled and made whole that he would invite darkness itself to complete him?

All of it. Hakkai had taken all of it and he would never be able to give it back.

Hakkai’s heart felt like an imploding star, its compacted mass collapsing and tearing everything around it to subparticulate matter and destroying it. The void opened, and Hakkai, shaking to pieces, stared in. He couldn’t feel himself quaking, couldn’t feel his mind go haywire, he only knew the singular thought that became clear:

_Go._

He was running, he was running, he couldn’t breathe and he was running, he was in his car, the engine revved and growled, and he was in motion. He didn’t know where he was going, but it didn’t matter anymore. He still recalled the last image he saw of his father’s life, twisted metal in a pool of black fluid, a car wrapped around a tree, he remembered the sight of Kanan’s desiccated body and knew he could never be granted such a peaceful suffocation, he put his foot down hard in hopes he carried himself to the gates of Hell at the highest gear.

He was blinded, not seeing road or tree, barely sensing lights or signs, hearing car horns blaring as he reached the main road, but he didn’t care, he didn’t care, because all he could think about was what he’d lost. What he’d given up.

That smile. That soothing voice that always seemed to laugh a little, as warm and rich as red wine and so smooth despite the cigarette that was never far from that kind mouth. Those big hands, how clever, how skilled, how surprisingly nimble, that wiry body and its broad shoulders, those long legs. That kind soul and drowning-deep heart. The gentle man who hurried to his side unprompted when he was ill.

_“… I’m your boyfriend, and all, so it’s my job to make sure you’re okay.”_

_“You need to be more careful when you say those silly, sweet things…”_

The smooth operator who could make him feel wanted and desired with a wink and a cake order. The patient lug who’d tolerate being pushed around on his day off to dig holes and plant flowers at his behest. Who searched for reasons to compliment him. Who tried so hard to impress him at every turn. Who never looked at him with anything less than adoration.

Even when Hakkai was failing to tell him he’d betrayed him.

He turned a corner fast, too fast, tires squealing, mouth running as fast as the engine: “You loved me, didn’t you?” The light turned red over him, but he sped through. “You gave yourself away, you hid it so poorly, and I was too gun-shy to see it for what it was!”

He could hear Gojyo’s voice in his memories, barely a rasp, so broken, so tired, _“Why would you wanna be with a jobless slob?”_

His voice wobbling down the line, like a cry for help he couldn’t voice, _“I miss you.”_

His Gojyo, doubled over in pain and rasping unintelligibly down the line, _“I love you I love you IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou–”_

How had he missed it?

“ _DON’T LEAVE! Please don’t leave. Don’t go!”_

Why hadn’t he reached out first, why hadn’t he done something, why hadn’t he just trusted him, why couldn’t he answer any of his own stupid questions? “He was right in front of me!” He peeled around another corner, scenting burning rubber, gasoline. He didn’t flinch at the thought of the explosion, but it didn’t come, his tires still squealing, engine still roaring, mind still racing. “Why would I go back to someone I knew would hurt me?!”

Gojyo hadn’t just given him a piece of his heart, Hakkai was seeing that now. Gojyo had gradually carved his own heart out of his chest whole, and he’d been precarious laying it out on a platter and trying desperately to present it to him as best as his unpracticed hands possibly could, _and he’d thrown it away_. Hakkai might as well have taken a knife to him.

He deserved punishment. Like Father slapping him when he talked back, like Grandmother forcing him to recite rosaries, like the switch to his backside when the rosaries didn’t chide. If not because he had done so wrong, because he had sinned, he’d hurt someone dear to him, then because he couldn’t stand to live in his own skin like this a second longer.

Maybe he’d hit a tree. Or a pole. Or another car. Maybe he’d just find a bridge over deep water and drive off of it. Maybe, he thought, laughing, he’d drive into the duck pond at the park and drown in a puddle. He was pathetic enough. He wasn’t worth the glory of a ball of fire.

Maybe they’d never recover his body. He’d rot in obscurity and never disturb another soul and that _was what he_ _ **DESERVED.**_

And then screeching metal roared in his ear.

Hakkai’s last survival instincts took over and he slammed on the brakes, and suddenly, his world shook to a halt. He could breathe for a second. He’d somehow stopped in the middle of an intersection, and someone was honking at him. He took a deep breath, got out of the intersection and drove into the nearest parking lot. He threw the car into park, killed the engine, and let his head fall onto the wheel, gulping in air.

His heart hadn’t stopped racing, but his mind was starting to slow. He was starting to compose himself again, starting to collect everything that had exploded out with the pain of that revelation. “You’re not done here,” he reminded himself in a whisper. He couldn’t leave any regrets. He had to rehome Ryuu properly. He should at least drive some of the items he was giving to charity to the collection centers himself. He had to write a very, very long and sincere letter of apology to those few people who may have still given a damn about him. He should try to apologize to Gojyo one more time. He deserved that much, at least.

He turned the key. The engine growled, sputtered, and … failed.

Hakkai’s eyes went wide, and he tried to turn the car on again. The engine tried to turn over, but didn’t. Wouldn’t. He tried over and over, but nothing, and the dying noises from his car sounded worse every time. He felt himself start to shake again – if he’d been any steadier, perhaps he could have handled this, but no, he was so close to falling apart already that this would just send him spiraling again, but even knowing that wasn’t stopping it.

It was a knock on his window that broke him out of it. Hakkai flinched, expecting a police officer, but when he turned to roll down his window, it was not. For a long moment, Hakkai stared out at the man looking down at him, the angular jawline, the scars on his face, those big hands – one all wrapped in gauze – and that lean body, and the red hair – cropped too close. He was looking at Gojyo for the first time in days and he thought he might just disintegrate here and now.

An unspeakable sensation, like fire and ice at the same time, speared through them each.

 _You look so broken_ , he wanted to say, as Gojyo, eyebrows raised, took him in, because even as far gone as he was, he couldn’t miss the hangdog look of pain that passed over his features. He had so many questions. Why was Gojyo here? Why would he approach him? What happened to his hair? What happened to his hand? Before Hakkai could bring himself to break the silence, Gojyo put on a thin smile and bent down to talk into the window.

“Hey.” Gojyo quirked an eyebrow, then patted the side of the car. “Thought I recognized your little blue here.” Hakkai could feel him clipping his sentences short, excising the endearments that usually peppered his words. “So, uh, car trouble?”

Hakkai wanted to ask, ‘what are you doing here?’ until he realized they were in the parking lot of a grocery store, and Gojyo still needed to eat without him to take care of him. Instead, he could only manage a nod. Gojyo clicked his tongue, then patted the hood of the car. “I don’t have my toolbox, but would you mind if I took a look?”

Hakkai nodded again, not trusting his mouth for a second, and popped the hood. “Please,” he rasped, hardly meaning to. Gojyo smiled for him again, patting the side of the car, then lifted himself to his feet and circled to the front of the car. Hakkai craned over the wheel as Gojyo leaned down into his car, his muscles on display through his thin tee-shirt, his slender neck. _Imagine,_ Hakkai thought, _after what I did, he still has room in his heart to be this kind._ Gojyo spent all of thirty seconds looking into the engine, when Hakkai heard the last thing he ever expected to hear: laughter. Rich, warm, wild laughter. Gojyo actually tossed his head back for a second, laughing to the sky, before wiping his brow and circling to the window again, still composing himself. He actually had to wipe a tear away as he held something out for Hakkai: “The spark plug.” He grinned like a madman. “I never did get a chance to replace that, did I?”

Oh. _Oh._

Hakkai had to choke back a watery laugh. “I… I suppose not.”

They both laughed, together in this strange small universe for a moment. When the moment ended, though, they were just two men staring at one another with so much wreckage between them neither knew where to begin. When the laughter died, Gojyo cleared his throat and tried to put a businesslike voice back on. “Uh, so, I actually don’t have my phone – long story – but I got my number memorized. If you let me borrow your phone, I can call Gat for a tow and he’ll take the car in.” Gojyo peered around Hakkai to see the clock. “It’s a little late, so I’ll fix her up first thing in the morning. How 'bout for now, I take you home and see what I can do about getting you a ride to the bakery in the morning?”

“I don’t think I’ll be going in tomorrow.” Hakkai said it without thinking, but clammed up before further explanation escaped him. How could he lay his woes on Gojyo? Especially when despite everything, Gojyo was still being so kind to him? Gojyo, for his part, quirked an eyebrow, then shrugged.

“Okay, then. Uh, I’ll get you home, if that’s alright. Can I borrow your phone?”

Hakkai unlocked his phone and passed it over to him. He hoped Gojyo would ignore that his own name was still at the top of his contacts list, the contact image framed around his smiling face. For his part, he tried to ignore Gojyo’s warm, familiar baritone as he spoke with the other mechanic at the shop and fidgeted with his still-sore hands as he waited, unsure of what else to do with himself. The tow truck arrived shortly, and Hakkai was surprised to see the bakery’s morning janitor driving. He’d seen him, but they’d never exchanged names or more than a word or two, but when Gat caught his eye and gave him a stiff nod, he wondered if maybe the fates had engineered this. If there was a reason Gojyo had come to him now, if there were no such things as coincidences.

Perhaps the heavens were giving him one last opportunity to apologize.

He got out of the car and stood at Gojyo’s side, leaving just a little space between them, as Gojyo and Gat had a brief conversation. Hakkai couldn’t help but notice that Gat was staring at Gojyo’s hair too – the haircut must have been very recent, and Hakkai shivered to think about it. Finally, Gat nodded, hooked his car to the tow truck, and Gojyo returned his attention to Hakkai, already putting on a smile as if with chisel and hammer. Hakkai had never wanted to see Gojyo sad, but knowing he was forcing it abraded still-bleeding wounds, even as Gojyo pushed on like a professional: “So, I can give you a ride home, if you’d like.” He paused, brow knitting up. “Hey, you don’t look so good, are you–”

“It’s nothing.” Hakkai swallowed the salt in his throat, keeping his eyes low. “I… I don’t want to go home.”

Gojyo’s frown told Hakkai he clearly didn’t understand. “Uh. Okay. Where would you like to go? I can take you, uh, to the bakery? To Mr. Sanzo’s place? Anywhere you’d like to go, call me your chariot.” Gojyo smiled again, and that just twisted the knife in Hakkai a notch deeper. He wanted to call Gojyo so many other things, but though it was unfair and likely a little selfish, he had to ask this much of Gojyo:

“With you.” Hakkai grounded himself and let his face fall in submission. “Wherever you’re going, just take me with you.”

He felt Gojyo run his focus over him, and dared to glance up just as Gojyo shrugged his shoulders. “I was just headed home. My place is kind of a huge mess–”

“So is mine, I don’t care. Just…” Hakkai wrestled with the words for a moment, but fortunately:

“You’re a little shaken up and maybe don’t wanna be alone right now.” Gojyo finished Hakkai’s sentence, albeit without the veil of pretense or propriety Hakkai would have sheathed his words in had he only been able to compose them quickly enough. Luckily, Gojyo actually sounded a little relieved, and scraped his fingers back through his cropped locks. “If you’re sure, then okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

Hakkai didn’t care what he was about to walk into. This was his chance at penance. His Gojyo, wonderful Gojyo, was no longer his, but instead just another innocent who’d been hurt by Hakkai’s selfish need for love. Let his victim be the architect of his punishment, or at least draw the first lines.

He tried to solidify himself around that thought as he got into Gojyo’s car with his grocery bags at his feet, as Gojyo held a hand out the window under the cloudy sky before leaving it rolled down and lighting up a cigarette. Gojyo was the flame that had lit his life. Let Gojyo be the match to ignite his funeral pyre.

The gathering rainclouds darkened.


	43. Gravity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He thinks he’s very nearly through the worst of it, but something is still drawing him no matter how he tries.
> 
> TRUST ARC - PART 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention on the Tumblr post: Special thanks to Mr. Blue for his help with this chapter! He helped me rearrange the plot and made it work better.

**43: Gravity**

“Wake up, boy.” Toudai’s voice was like a weight on his chest, and Sanzo roused to see his father sitting on the far end of his bed in his day clothes, fidgeting with the snap on his suspenders and a deep, wrinkled mountain of eyebrow arching up his forehead. “There you are.” He seemed relieved that Sanzo had opened his eyes, and he reached out to ruffle his hair. Sanzo pushed his hand back, scowling, and sat up, but Toudai stood over him and took hold of his chin. “Don’t you brush me off; I know you normally don’t drink that much, let me look you over.” He forced Sanzo to turn his head left and right. “How’s your head? Stomach? Are you nauseous?”

“Quit it, Pop.” Sanzo smacked Toudai’s hand off. “I’m fine.” He was lying a little; he felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to his skull. Toudai scowled his disapproval, but crossed his arms.

“Then come on. I’ve made you some breakfast.” He stepped back and pointed to the door, and Sanzo grimaced, but forced himself to stand. He was still wearing his shirt and boxers from the night before and he reeked of gin, but Toudai held up a pair of jeans for him and motioned insistently, and he had no choice but to drag his pants on and be herded down the steps like a stubborn sheep.

Toudai served Sanzo a bowl of muesli, muttering about how the oats held more moisture than dry cereal and would help rehydrate him better, and Sanzo picked around the little bits of almond and peaches dotting the oats. The muesli was cold and mild, and mercifully not too sweet, which he was certain his stomach would thank him for. He ate slowly, mulishly, his head throbbing with each chew, as Toudai settled into his chair across the table and flipped open the newspaper. Sanzo tried to watch him work on the Sudoku, but watching the pen flit to and fro stung at his eyes, too. The light in the kitchen was mercifully dim, as rainclouds gathered outside and what sun there was shifted behind the curtains again. After a few minutes of somber silence but for the scratch of Toudai’s pen, Toudai sighed and set the paper aside. “Curse the Thursday edition. Those puzzles are the hardest.”

“Mm.” Sanzo dropped his gaze to his oats. He found himself empathizing with Gojyo, somehow or other; he didn’t feel like eating with so much hanging over him.

“Well, boy.” Toudai sat forward, his attention centering on Sanzo, and Sanzo felt the universe narrow to the pinpoint focus of his father’s gaze. “Do you want to start explaining why you broke up with that fine young man you were seeing?” Sanzo pressed his lips together, then forced another mouthful of mush in. Toudai exhaled slowly, then pinched his brow. “We all liked him. I could tell how very much you liked him, though you think you’re so good at pretending you don’t like anything. Moreover, I can tell how low you are after breaking things off with him. Your father and I can’t stand to see you down.”

“Leave it, Pop. I’m fine.” He shuffled the oatmeal around under his spoon. How the hell was he supposed to explain the panic he’d felt at the notion of Goku loving him, of letting him that close only to see him torn away? Toudai heaved a sigh.

“You can’t lie to me.”

Sanzo tried to pretend he wasn’t there, but Toudai was like a mountain in his window, too big to ignore, the shadow he cast too black. After a minute, he muttered, “He deserved better than me.”

That got Toudai’s brow knit up again. “Son, he liked you just the way you are, same as we do.”

“I’m not right for him. He’ll just get hurt.” He thought back to the expression of betrayal and heartbreak Goku had tried to hide when he’d refused Goku’s love. “He… He needs someone softer. Gentler.”

That only made him recall Gojyo’s forlorn counter to that from the night before: _“… he doesn’t want that. He wants you.”_

Toudai, from the somber frown he wore at that, clearly agreed. “You were good to him, up until that day. Certainly, you were prickly, but he actually seemed to find that funny and charming instead of off-putting!”

Sanzo shook his head again. “He should be with someone better. Someone who’s not me. Someone who wouldn’t hurt him.”

“Kouryuu.” Toudai put his palms on the table and pushed himself to his feet. “I know you’re not interested in _ancient history_ , but I very nearly made the same mistake. I tried to break up with your father once.” Sanzo rolled his eyes, but Toudai crossed his arms. “It’s true. I hated having to be discreet with our romance, I didn’t want to put him through that. I thought, between the pressure of my career and sodomy laws, he deserved things to be easier. If our relationship became public knowledge, I would have been a pariah in the sports world, and no amount of discretion on the part of Koumyou’s employer would protect him from the backlash if his name was known in the papers.” Toudai bowed his head. “I didn’t write him for a whole week.” Sanzo snorted, but Toudai huffed and leaned towards him. “Besides all that, he was much too kind for a grouch like me. I thought we could never be happy together. I thought that, given the nature of our relationship, the cold shoulder would be enough to make him give up on me.”

Toudai paused, then admitted, “Of course, he wrote me after just a week and told me he missed seeing my handwriting, and I broke like a clay pigeon.” Sanzo slid his chin into his palm and raised an eyebrow at Toudai. “My point is, boy, when I did explain how I felt, he shot me down! He didn’t care that I was half the world away, nor that I would never be able to give him a normal, quiet life, nor my calumny or roughness or blunt edges. Those things were features, not bugs!” He heaved a sigh and ran his fingers into Sanzo’s hair, tilting his head back to make him meet his eyes. “He wanted a chance to make things continue to work, until we could make the life we wanted, and it took longer than I would have wanted, but we have what we have now. I don’t know what my life would have been without him, but I will never regret my patience. I will never regret giving him that chance.”

Sanzo slapped Toudai’s hand off. His grip was only making his headache worse. “He gave me a chance. I decided it wasn’t worth it.”

Before Toudai could retort, there was a blur of motion behind them, and both Sanzo and Toudai turned around to see Gojyo storming down the stairs, still reeking of liquor. Toudai scowled, as Sanzo watched him snatch his jacket from the rack and stumble out the door, clearly still half-drunk and more than a little angry. In the wake of that display, Toudai could only heave another pained sigh and shake his head.

“Kouryuu, I can’t make you be happy. I can only encourage you not to make the same mistakes as me.” Toudai settled back into his chair, but leaned over the table towards him. “What are you going to do?”

“Sober up.” Sanzo shrugged, but it was true; he could still feel a little fuzziness warping his senses. “Probably check in at work.” He felt Toudai staring through him, but averted his gaze. “I don’t know.”

“Hrm.” It was an unhappy sound, and Sanzo hoped Toudai didn’t see him grimace at it. “That’s your decision to make. It’s a shame that this is the choice you’re making, though.”

Sanzo sneered at his cereal bowl. “No temper tantrum?”

Toudai narrowed his eyes, but he didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he exhaled slowly and sat back. “I’m too old to keep getting angry at my old mistakes.” He hefted himself to a stand, groaning. “I’m sixty-eight now, son, and I’m sick. And I know I’m sick.” He thinned his lips, lowered his eyes, either penitent or pensive, perhaps both. “If you want to make mistakes, at some point, I have to step aside and let you make them.”

With that, Toudai trudged for the stairwell, but paused at the threshold and glanced back. Sanzo had already fished his earbuds from his pocket and popped them in. Toudai watched hims push his muesli away and lay his head on the table. He closed his eyes tight as Toudai ascended the stairs, not caring that his head ached at the reverberation of the bass, or that when he closed his eyes, he could still imagine Goku smiling.

“ _I, I will be King, and you, you will be Queen…”_

Maybe he should write Goku a letter. Explain what he could explain, at least. Maybe not the parts about Nii, fuck, no, but maybe tell him he wished him better. That Goku should have someone who would say those words back to him and not be terrified of what they meant. He thought of Pippi, and wondered if he should tell Goku she was interested, but his chest ached at the thought of passing him off like a torch he found too heavy to carry.

“ _Though nothing will keep us together…”_ Sanzo mouthed the words, _“We could steal time just for one day…”_ He shook his head against the table, desperately trying not to think about Goku, struck down by his rejection like a bird with a bullet in its breast. _“We can be Heroes…”_

The sky outside only seemed to darken. Sanzo’s headache wasn’t going away; it was just echoing down through the rest of him now, like one giant ache.

Upstairs, Toudai tiptoed into the den to see Koumyou standing at the window. “Dearest?” He approached, already reaching for him, but when he did touch his shoulder, Koumyou shook his head.

“It’s nothing, darling.”

Toudai frowned, then embraced him. Koumyou only ever called him ‘darling’ when he was in trouble, or when something was genuinely wrong. Koumyou clearly needed the affection, though he’d never ask. “I suppose I owe you an immense debt of gratitude.” He leaned forward, rubbing his stubble against Koumyou’s smooth jaw, then pecked him just under the ear. “I’m glad I was worth fighting for.”

Koumyou failed to stifle a tiny giggle, and Toudai felt relief rush through him when he sighed his tension out and settled against Toudai’s chest. “My love, despite it all, you were very much worth all of our struggles. I can only hope that those who come after us are ready to fight the same uphill path towards happiness, no matter how great the obstacle may look from how low he stands.” He let Toudai hold him a moment longer, then turned around and got on tiptoe to kiss his nose. “Did you speak with Kouryuu?”

“He’s a wall, but I tried.” Toudai patted Koumyou’s shoulder. “I hope something stuck, at least, but time will tell. Did you try to contact Hakkai?”

Koumyou nodded. “It went to his messages, unfortunately.” His mouth twitched with sorrow. “I’m afraid the last he and I spoke, our conversation ended on difficult terms, and he may not wish to speak with me.”

“A pity.” Toudai exhaled sharply, and slung one arm over Koumyou’s shoulder. “Then perhaps, this afternoon…?”

“Yes.” Koumyou nodded, and his smile returned. “Perhaps there’s one boy we can still help.”

* * *

Goku was still a little shaken up after Gojyo’s brief visit to the garage, but Gat was fine letting him return calls and check inventory for a little while. He had no idea what had happened to Gojyo last night, but whatever it was had obviously only driven him a little further up the wall. “Wish I could help him,” he muttered to himself, forgetting for a moment that things weren’t great for him either.

Meh. It sucked, but he was trying not to let it ruin his day. Not today, anyway. The ache was starting to recede, he wasn’t going to let himself sink back into it.

The phone rang – as good of a distraction as any – and he picked it up. “G’s Auto–”

“Goku. Please let me talk to Gojyo.”

Goku came up short at that gruff demand, but after a second, recognition registered. “Oh, um, Jien, right?”

“You remember me.” Jien sounded a little relieved. “Uh, been alright since winter?”

“Y-yeah.” Goku smiled weakly and leaned against the counter. “How’s Mr. Kougaiji and Ms. Yaone?”

“Fine, just fine. But, uh, I really need to talk to Gojyo.” Jien's tones sank back towards despair. “I tried his cell, but he hasn’t picked up, and it’s been days.” Goku winced.

“I heard him saying his phone’s broken, and he’s not here.” Goku scowled at the desk. “He came in smelling like booze, so Gat sent him home – oh crap!” He gasped when he realized he’d said that out loud. “Um, forget I said that, please!”

“It’s fine, kiddo.” Jien groaned on the other end. “I’m just worried.”

“Yeah, me too.” Goku bit his lip. “He hasn’t been himself since he and Hakkai broke up.”

There was a beat of stunned silence on the other end of the line. “They… they did?”

“Oh, crap, you didn’t know?!” Goku gaped, spinning and looking over both shoulders in case Gojyo sprung up just in time to slug him for talking behind his back. “Oh crap, oh crap, _please_ don’t tell him I–!”

“I won’t! For God’s sake.” Jien sounded somewhere between disgusted and dejected, Goku couldn’t be sure which. “But, they split?” He moved his mouth from the receiver, but Goku still heard a distinct, “Gojyo, you idiot.” Jien spoke into the phone again. “I’ll stop tying up your line, kiddo, but… can you call me if he’s in tomorrow?”

“You got it.” Goku heard a click, then groaned and put the phone down. Jeez, why did things have to be so complicated?

He somehow made it through the afternoon, or at least until Gat approached from the garage at around three, toweling the back of his neck clean. “We’re caught up. I’m closing up. Good work today.”

It was early, so Goku was a little surprised, but they were short-handed today, so it made sense. Gat’s short but well-meant praise was helpful, too, and Goku grinned at him. “Sounds good, thanks!” Gat smiled and set his hand on Goku’s head, mussing his hair.

“Have a good night.”

Things were pretty okay. Even without Sanzo, most of his life hadn’t changed. He still rode the same bus back to his side of town, since it was easier than walking three miles in his binder. He clung tight to the pole as they passed over the railroad tracks, two hard bumps that shook him every time. He still walked the two blocks from the stop towards his apartment building. Maybe he’d put the mac and cheese powder on the ramen tonight – it’d be nice if he had some tomatoes left to throw into it, but it’d be nice to change things up no matter what. He could smile a little as he got to the door, reassured that things were okay.

Except the shadow cast in the lobby now touched his toes, as Nii Jianyi stood against the empty receptionist desk, hands tucked in his pockets. He raised a hand to hail Goku, smirking. “Long time, no see, Goku.”

Goku raised an eyebrow into a flat scowl. “Get out of my apartment.”

“This is a public lobby.” Nii shrugged out of his slouch and took a few steps towards him, the solid heels of his shoes clicking on the grubby tiles. “I admit I’m here for you, though; is it true my idiot baby brother split with you?”

Goku grounded his heels. “Why, trying to snap up another one of his boyfriends?” He discreetly tugged his collar back into place and made for the stairs. “Screw off, I don’t have anything to say to you.”

“That’s funny; when we met, you had a big mouth.” Nii pivoted to face him as he crossed the lobby. “I like your spunk. It’s cute.”

“You’re like twice my age, creep-o.” Goku glared back at him, upper lip curling, hoping his glower was as intimidating as Sanzo’s could be. From Nii’s amused expression, it wasn’t. “I can’t get you on trespassing, but I asked to you leave once already. I don’t feel like going to jail, so, like I said, screw off.”

“Really? It was my understanding you were open-minded to anyone who might want to talk to you.”

“And who the hell told you that?” Goku crossed his arms.

“My old man.” Nii waved the question off and took a step towards Goku, and Goku took a step back, repelled by the obvious lie and Nii’s odious smirk. “And really, age is only a number, I’ve dated younger men before. You excite me. You’re different. All I’m asking is a conversation – somewhere nice.” Nii looked pointedly around at the drab surroundings. “I understand you like coffee drinks, and–”

“– took Hakkai for coffee on your first date with him, too. He told me all about you. You’re not even all that creative of a creep, are you?” Goku raised an eyebrow and cocked a hip out. “Seriously? You mess with Hakkai and make him break it off with Gojyo, you make time in your life just to mess with Sanzo, I mean, do you even work? Get a hobby! One that doesn’t involve screwing with the lives and happiness of everyone around you!” Nii frowned, and Goku was satisfied that he’d broken his stride. “Oh, and for the record? I’m open-minded, but I’ll tell you what I told Sanzo: I don’t date jerks!” Ready to claim the last word and victory, he spun around and marched up the first three steps, but behind him, Nii chuckled.

“Oh, is that how it is? No wonder Sanzo split up with you.” Something foul curled from those words, stopping Goku dead in his tracks. “You do have quite a mouth on you. Don’t you know, kid? Men hate little bitches who talk too much.”

Goku whipped back around. “SHUT UP!”

Goku’s voice cracked. Nii’s eyes went wide. Then, his smirk went wider. “Oh. Oh, I see. Is that how it is?”

“Shut up!” Goku wrestled control of his voice back. Damn it, years of practice and he still can’t keep it in line when it counts! “I hate assholes who don’t know when to give up! Fuck off, or I’ll make you!” With that, he stormed off, reminding himself: can’t go to jail. Not today. Payday’s not until next week and Nataku can’t afford my bail. He ignored Nii, knowing that actually throwing a punch would only make everything suck worse.

Goku threw the door open and pitched his jacket at the ground as hard as he could. He wanted to swear and scream, but he settled for punching the kitchen cabinet, slamming the door shut, and throwing himself onto his futon. The springs and gears groaned at the impact, and he groaned back, disgusted with himself. He wished he could have punched Nii; it probably would have hurt his hand less, and giving that jackass what he deserved might have made him feel a little better, no matter how much jail sucked. “Stupid, idiot.”

“Usually–” Goku gasped at Nataku’s mild voice from his bed. “– If one of us is coming home in a snit, it’s me.” Goku turned to see Nataku closing his book and standing up from his usual spot, only to come close and crouch at eye level with Goku. “Is something wrong?”

Goku groaned and tilted his head back into the cushion. “There was this creepy jackass hitting on me in the lobby.”

“Oh.” Nataku scrunched his face, but patted Goku’s head. “Is that all?”

“Yeah.” He tried to shrug Nataku’s hand off, but the contact felt a little too nice. “Sanzo’s brother. He’s like forty and skeezy.”

Nataku raised an eyebrow. “His brother? Forty? That’s gross. Tell his parents.”

“Ah, I would, but…”

“Or does Sanzo wanna deal with him himself?” Nataku rose to his full height and wandered towards the kitchen.

“Ah…” Goku broke off, not sure how to answer.

“I could go have words with him if you want.” Nataku poured two glasses of orange juice, brought one to Goku, and sipped on the other for himself. “How many times has he done it? You’ve been down a few days, does he keep showing up?” Nataku raised an eyebrow, and Goku suddenly got the feeling he was being interrogated.

“No, no, it’s – look, it’s okay.” He tried hard to sink through the futon, but just gave himself a knee cramp. “I’d'a dealt with him, but honestly, he ain’t worth the jail time. If he shows up again, I’ll call the cops.”

“Not Sanzo?” Nataku was still scrutinizing him, and Goku sighed. There wasn’t much point in hiding it.

“He broke up with me. Said he didn’t love me.”

Nataku choked on his orange juice for a second, then swallowed hard. “Really.” A hard line set in his features, but Goku, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him, just sighed.

“Yeah. Sucks.”

“So he breaks up with you, leaving you vulnerable for his vulture older brother to pick at you – and he directly said he doesn’t love you?”

“I guess it’s how he is.” Goku flipped his hand around. “He liked me for a while, we had fun, but… I don’t mean anything to him. It’s fine. It’s not like I haven’t been left behind before.” He grinned feebly towards the ceiling, as Nataku drained his juice and went to get his jacket. “I’m not so good at keeping friends. Just you, Nataku.”

Nataku planted his hand on his head again, his fingertips gripping just a little too tight. “You’re a good guy, Goku. Anyone who can’t appreciate that… they deserve whatever karma they have coming to them.” He ruffled his hair. “You’re like a brother to me, okay? I love you.”

Goku blinked back surprise, then smiled for Nataku. This was supposed to make him happy, but Goku could only feel like Nataku was trying to show him mercy. He didn’t want to be pitied. Even so: “I love you, too. Like a brother, and all.”

“Good.” Nataku smiled, but he looked strangely weary behind it. “Listen, I got something to take care of. Made a promise to a guy. Hopefully, I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, sure.” Goku sank back down with a sigh, ignoring the mundane noises of Nataku tying his shoes and closing the door as he left. He shut his eyes but flung a hand out to fish around the coffee table drawer for his headphones. Just as he found the jack, he heard his cell ringing, and fished it from his pocket, only to find an unfamiliar number.

He still rolled from his back to his belly and answered: “Hello?”

Two familiar voices sounded from the other end: “Hello, Goku!”

“Goku, m'boy, it’s been too long!”

Koumyou and Toudai! Goku sat up, heart racing in his chest. “Oh! H-hi! I, uh, I wasn’t expecting you to call!” Ever again, he wanted to say, but Toudai chortled and Koumyou giggled.

“Goodness, why wouldn’t we? I’ve missed seeing you.”

“Well.” Goku shifted uncomfortably into the back of the sofa. “It’s just, I mean… you know Sanzo and me… um, we’re not seeing each other anymore.” He bit his lip, a bad taste rising into his throat at having to say it again. “So, I’m sorry, but–”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Koumyou tsked softly. “We know our son made that mistake. But I told you, I’m friends with whoever I want to be friends with, regardless of Kouryuu’s decisions.”

“Stupid decisions,” Toudai added under his breath.

Goku tried to answer, but it felt like something was thick and sticky in his throat. “You… you guys…”

“I know it must be difficult for you, dear, but I’m proud that you’ve remained strong.” Koumyou’s voice soothed, and Goku could almost imagine the hug he’d be getting if Koumyou were in front of him. “I wanted to tell you something important.” Goku cocked his head, as Koumyou giggled off the receiver. “We – the Sanzo family, I mean – got in touch with your Mama, and we’ve made a special arrangement.”

Goku’s heart jumped into his throat. “What?”

Toudai answered, proudly: “We’ve matched your current savings.”

The words echoed in Goku’s head, his heart pounding, and he grabbed at his chest as if he could stop the sudden ache that radiated out of him. “But! That’s! I had–!”

“Yes, dear, we know.” Of course Koumyou knew how much was there, and Goku knew that was a _lot_ of money.

“B-but, Sanzo said–!” Toudai’s medicines. Goku choked on the thought of Toudai going without for his sake. Toudai seemed to understand, tsking him down the line.

“Dear boy, don’t worry for us. We wanted to do this, and we still have the ability to spoil a child. Kouryuu, too. Honestly, the bulk of our gift is coming from him – he has a healthy savings and is remarkably frugal with his own money. Though, we give the boy a little spending money and it goes right out the window!” Toudai cackled, but Goku just felt a huge weight on his chest, and not just because he’d been in his binder all day.

“S-Sanzo…”

“He didn’t want to give it to you directly, dear, and he didn’t even want us to acknowledge that he was involved,” Koumyou explained. “He said he wasn’t your, er, 'sugar daddy,’ but he still very much wanted you to have it. He wanted you to be happy.” Goku cringed, the silence as striking as a heavy rainstorm.

“Take it back,” he mumbled. “I can’t accept it. I can’t owe you that much.”

“We want you to have it!” Toudai insisted. “It’s not a loan, it’s a gift!”

“It’s done, dear,” Koumyou added, still smiling through his voice. “We were going to wait for your birthday, but that’s a few weeks out, and we got so impatient!” Goku’s chest twisted up again. “Perhaps you can schedule your surgery for after you blow out those candles! I know some lovely, kind surgeons who would be overjoyed to assist you, and I’d be happy to take you to consultations – though, you’d have to suffer my driving.” Koumyou laughed at his own joke, and Goku didn’t know whether to weep for joy or for something else.

Sanzo had done that for him. Had wanted to do it anonymously. Had really, truly wanted Goku to be happy.

“I… I dunno what to say.” The mix of emotions flooding him had him on the verge of all-out tears. “Except, thank you, and God, I miss you both, so much.”

“Don’t be a stranger, lad. We’d still be happy to see you.” Toudai’s rumbling voice, like the crackling edge of an earthquake, was nothing but warm now.

“A bond can form so very quickly, you know?” Koumyou sounded as light and bright as his heart, so loaded with fondness that Goku felt a little overwhelmed by it. “I knew I wanted to have Kouryuu as my son the moment I lay eyes on him, and I feel the very same about you. You’re always welcome in our home, and you can call anytime. You’re a son to us, Goku.”

That was it. The waterworks were going. Goku sniffled hard and smeared at his eyes. He tried to thank them again, but all that came out was a whimper. He heard Toudai quietly scolding Koumyou, but he sucked back tears. “Thank you, D-dad. Pop.”

Both of them were quiet, then Toudai chuckled. “Of course. We’ll let you go, son, but give us a call some time, alright?”

“Okay. Bye!” He hung up and dabbed his eyes dry, then hugged his chest tight. He couldn’t even describe the feelings bursting out of him! It was like there had been a hole, and it was full.

Toudai and Koumyou loved him. Nataku did, too. Even Sanzo. Even if Sanzo had told him he didn’t care, he had still showed it. Goku smiled weakly at the thought that when he had surgical scars, he could still think a little fondly of the man who’d helped to give them to him.

Sanzo was never all that good at saying what he meant, anyway. Always had to hide the good stuff behind pretending to be mean. Like he was scared of being seen as nice. “Nothing wrong with bein’ nice, Sanzo,” he mumbled to himself. Maybe that was why he’d reacted like he did and pushed Goku away, like he wanted to bounce back anything good, and why the nicer it was, the harder he pushed back. “Guess I should'a figured.” He rubbed the back of his neck and settled into the futon again. “Doesn’t make what he did okay, but…” He put a hand over his heart. “Thanks, Sanzo.”

He could love Sanzo a little longer, even if it meant hurting a little longer. There was still some fondness there, and probably always would be. As complicated as their relationship had been, Goku had enjoyed it. Maybe someday, he’d be able to look Sanzo in the eye again.

That would have been the end of his day. He would call Koumyou on his next day off and have a nice long chat. Nii wasn’t worth worrying about. So what if the jackass knew he was trans? What was he going to do about it? He would have flipped on Netflix and watched one of his favorite old Extreme Food specials, made some mac and ramen, or – heck, today was a good day – gone out to get some hot dogs to put in the mac and ramen. Then he thought about the conversation he’d had with Nataku again.

_“Made a promise to a guy.”_

Hadn’t Nataku once promised him that he’d hurt anyone who hurt him?

And hadn’t he just told him that Sanzo had broken his heart?

“CRAP!” Goku jumped up to his feet, knocking right into the coffee table and tumbling over it, but he bounced right back up and ran for the door and his shoes. He snatched his phone from his pocket, dialing Nataku as he tied his laces, but it rang twice and went to voice message. Goku still shouted: “STOP! DON’T HURT HIM!” before killing the call. He checked the time – there was no way he was making the bus pickup, and the next one wasn't for half an hour! He bit his lip for a moment, but there was no second way about it. “Fine!” He yanked his shirt off, tore away the Velcro on his binder, and grabbed a sports bra out of his drawer. “I won’t let anyone hurt him!” He fastened it tight, gritting his teeth. It pinched a little through the ribs and didn’t compress him the same as the binder, but that didn’t matter. He had to protect Sanzo.

He knew he still loved Sanzo. If Sanzo hated him for doing this, then let him. It wouldn’t change Goku’s mind for a second.

Drawn helplessly like the Earth in the Sun’s gravitational pull, Goku ran out the door under a darkening sky. Even if he couldn’t beat the storm, maybe he could beat Nataku to Sanzo!


	44. Heroes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRUST ARC - 14
> 
> Help is on the way.

**44: Heroes**

The big window was dark with black clouds when Gat pushed the door open, and the apartment was dark but for a single lamp on beside the sofa. Hazel was seated on the edge of the cushion, his elbows on the coffee table, gazing at several sharply-creased pieces of paper – likely letters. Gat silently shut the door behind him and crossed the room to sit beside him, a hand’s distance between their hips, his palms on his knees.

Hazel didn’t even look at him. His lips were sealed tight, his gaze didn’t even flinch from his wide-eyed stare at the correspondence on the table. Gat didn’t have to ask if he was angry. He knew.

He waited.

Hazel didn’t say anything for a few minutes. Finally, abruptly, unprompted, he spoke: “I tried to pay the bills.” Hazel picked up one of the letters. “Electricity was due. Cable, too. Lucky for me, rent ain’t up for another week, but I tried to get that with the money I had left.” Gat nodded, and Hazel finally looked to him, tears in his eyes. “You got ‘em all.”

Gat nodded again. Hazel slapped his thigh. “That wasn’t our arrangement! Y'said y’d work and pay half!” A few fat tears rolled down Hazel’s cheeks, and Gat winced his eyes shut. His drawl was more pronounced, so Gat knew he was wrought up; he hadn’t expected Hazel to get this emotional, though maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised.

“My work is enough to cover all of it.”

“You’re workin’ three jobs!” Hazel snatched up a few of the letters, which Gat recognized as pay stubs. “Y'hadn’t been home in weeks, so I started openin’ your damn mail so I could forward ya the important stuff wherever the hell y'were, and what do I find but three different pay stubs!”

“I’ve been home.” Gat hung his head. “You’ve been out. I’ve been busy.”

“Y'ain’t called or texted or nothin’!” Hazel smacked the sofa. “But of course you ain’t! You work your own stupid ass like a God-damned mule, like you don’t need to eat or rest or even just have five minutes for your own damn self, how the hell would you make time for little ol’ me?!”

“Hazel, I did it for you.”

“I know ya did, ya idjit!” Hazel hit his thigh this time, and Gat couldn’t look at him. “Every damn one I called, they told me! The water bill, 'your partner covered it for ya,’ electricity, 'Mr. Hawk made the payment for ya,’ the damn landlady said you came by personally to make sure it got paid early! She told me you said you wanted to take care of that for me!” Hazel was shaking a little and swatting at Gat’s arm for punctuation. It didn’t hurt, though Gat was reasonably certain Hazel was trying to hurt him, just a little. “And you couldn’t just – just – come home and talk to me!” He stopped hitting him, facing him and glaring at him, demanding Gat’s honesty. “You knew, didn’t'tcha? About Professor Nii? You knew he was stringing me along?”

Gat shook his head. “I didn’t know. I suspected.” Hazel grabbed his knee and squeezed, and Gat couldn’t tell if he was grabbing for purchase or still trying to hurt him. “His methods… that he would hold that over you, and then say he’s doing it for a good reason… It seemed untrustworthy.”

“Why didn’t'cha say that?!” Hazel slapped his leg this time. Gat caught his wrist and held it firmly, and held his gaze.

“You don’t like to be told you’re wrong.” This caught Hazel up short. His breath hitched like he was being choked, and Gat released his arm to rub his hand down his back. “I wanted you to be right. But I prepared in the event he was wrong, to make sure your safety net was never taken out from under you.”

“That’s…!” Hazel hiccuped. “Y'did all that… overworkin’ yourself, sneakin’ around and payin’ my bills without tellin’ me, just to preserve my stupid pride?” Gat didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. Hazel broke down sobbing, scraping at his eyes with his hands, and Gat let him sob openly for a moment, then rubbed up and down Hazel’s back again. Hazel tried to shove his arm off, but Gat didn’t let him push him.

“It’s just us. You don’t have to be proud for me.” Gat gathered Hazel into his arms, pulling him from the sofa and against him, and held him to his chest, and Hazel gave in and crumpled into his shoulder, weeping.

Hazel cried onto his shoulder for a few minutes, and Gat held him there patiently, keeping his back straight and letting his tears fall onto Gat’s shirt. When he’d calmed, Gat eased him back and looked into his face. “You should know that the information you gave to that Professor… he used it to break his ex up with his new flame, and to destroy his brother’s confidence.”

Hazel swallowed hard, but shook his head. “I ain’t surprised, considerin’ how he played me.” He bowed his head, eyelashes still wet with tears fanned across his cheeks as he thought. “I gotta put things right, or try to. I got an idea.” He lifted his head, still collecting himself, but some of his pride was giving his face form again, putting determination in his expression. “Will ya stand with me this time instead of behind me?”

Gat smiled and slid his hand into Hazel’s. “Always.”

* * *

Sanzo could feel the first few drops of rain touching on his knees and shoulders. He tipped his gaze up for a moment, then back down to the cigarette in his hands. Rainy days always made him feel less like a human than usual, less like interacting, less like doing anything, but he still felt sick and miserable from the night before, so he wasn’t sure how much lower he could go. Being at work was better than sitting at home under his fathers’ heavy stares and muted sighs, but it wasn’t like there was anything for him to do. Hassan had already taken care of the inventory, and the books didn’t need reconciled yet. He didn’t trust himself to talk to customers – even he knew he was too far gone for that – so all he could do was sit out behind the back door and chain-smoke. Hakkai hadn’t come in (still shaking it off, he supposed), and the other bakers were all leaving him alone.

All but one, anyway.

Abruptly, the back door flew open and Hassan poked his head out. “You’re still here, Mister Sanzo?” He whistled and stepped out, hands tucked in his pockets. “You can go home, you got PTO and all.”

“I wouldn’t do anything at home, either.” Sanzo blew a smoke cloud and watched it dissipate in the heavy air. “I’m not paying myself for this. I’m just here because I want to be.”

Hassan put his hands on his hips. “You just don’t wanna be anywhere else, huh?” He clicked his tongue. “Man, Sharak was right. You and Mr. Cho are kind of hopeless.”

Sanzo smashed his cigarette on the wall. “Get bent. I don’t know why everyone else is so bent out of shape about the shit I decide to do in my life, anyway.”

“Mostly 'cause we care about you.” Hassan, unimpressed, shrugged. “Sharak does, I know that. The girls and guys in the shop do. It’s pretty plain for anyone to see you’re a lot more miserable than usual.”

“I reiterate my previous 'get bent.’” Sanzo lit a fresh cigarette. “I’m fine.” Hassan raised an eyebrow as Sanzo dispassionately dragged on the smoke. “Things happen, things change. There’s nothing you can do but get over it.”

“Things don’t just happen, y'know.” Hassan crossed his arms. “You can do stuff to try and change, or stop it.”

“It’s not important. You’re Buddhist, aren’t you?” He sneered. “ _Muichimotsu._ Hold nothing. Isn’t that right?”

Hassan raised an eyebrow. “I’m not Buddhist, Sharak is. But that’s not how she explained that to me. That’s for stuff like possessions. It’s why monks wear clothes assembled from scraps, because they don’t make or buy things, they just accept discarded things.” He set his hands on his hips. “So, yeah, grabbing after possessions makes you unhappy and keeps you from reaching Nirvana, but you didn’t own that kid. You couldn’t own him if you tried.”

Discarded things. The words tasted like copper on the back of his tongue as Sanzo rolled them around in his mouth. Still, he sniffed and retorted, “I don’t see the difference. Worldly possessions. People. Nothing I can keep.”

“Ugh.” Hassan shook his head. “I hate to say it, boss, but, I liked you better when he was around. Have fun sulking.” He dipped back into the kitchen and let the door fall shut behind him, and Sanzo heaved a sigh and started to fish for another cigarette.

“Sure you did. Everyone did.” His pack was empty, and his hand already felt cold. The spattering drops began to fall faster, and Sanzo briefly considered going inside as the rain began to dampen his hair. It was probably better than sitting out in the wet and catching a cold. There might not be anyone to fuss over him or bring him chicken soup (at least, _edible_ chicken soup) if he did. Just as he got to his feet, he heard something rattle in the alley.

This time, when he spun around, there was a shadow waiting at the other end. Sanzo rolled his shoulders back and braced himself, as the other man -- Nataku, Sanzo realized -- approached. The slight man studied Sanzo for a moment, resignation plain in his languid gaze, before removing his reading glasses and putting them in his back pocket, then setting Sanzo with a firm stare. “Kouryuu Sanzo.” Sanzo felt his given name sting at the hairs on the back of his neck, like the words had been said by some booming, unimaginable presence rather than a scrawny-looking college student. “Do you remember what I told you?”

Sanzo, despite his instincts nipping at his neck and arms telling him to turn tail and run, now, sneered and grounded his heels on the concrete. “You’re going to pull this, are you? Whatever I had with Goku is none of your business. Screw off.”

Nataku merely blinked Sanzo’s ire off. “I’m afraid I have to contradict you. Where Goku is involved, it is my business. I promised him I’d take care of him. And I warned you.” He inhaled, then cracked the knuckles on his right hand into his left palm, repeating with gravel in his voice: “I warned you.”

Nataku exhaled, his shoulders sinking. Sanzo blinked. When he opened his eyes, Nataku was there. Fist clenched for a bullet strike. Too close! He didn’t twist back in time, and Nataku’s fist grazed his nose, not enough to break it but enough to make it bleed. Sanzo ducked as Nataku swung at him again, staggering back with blood streaming down his face. Nataku’s expression hadn’t shifted.

As if he was bored doling out vengeance.

Bored as he struck at Sanzo from the left. Sanzo dodged, tripping over a crate but catching himself. The bakery door swung open, someone gasped an 'oh, shit!’ and yanked the door shut.

Bored as he swung an uppercut. Sanzo stumbled another step back, hearing the street closer, the noise of passing cars and the rain pattering the asphalt and his pulse thudding in his ear.

This was nothing to him. It was as if Nataku weren’t throwing his life away by committing a premeditated felony.

Nataku made to sweep Sanzo’s legs, but Sanzo half-jumped over it and let Nataku’s kick hit the inside of his ankle, then stomped on his foot to trip him up. Nataku was unfazed, stepping in to knee Sanzo in the jaw. Sanzo barely dodged, stumbling back but grounding himself, lifting his fists like a boxer as he strained to catch his breath. Nataku was unfazed, steady, as he advanced again.

“You could try to defend your actions,” he murmured over the soft scuff of his footsteps. Sanzo unconsciously shook his head. Nataku shrugged, and swept into a roundhouse kick towards Sanzo’s gut. Sanzo bent back at the waist, staggering again.

Why had had gone for ice skating lessons instead of karate?! Fuck, it would have been pointless now. Even if Sanzo could remember some of the self-defense moves he’d picked up in college, he didn’t want to hurt Goku’s friend. Besides, Nataku was _good._

Nataku recovered fast, and as he lunged for Sanzo again with spear strikes that Sanzo could only dodge, moving backwards in jerks and starts, Sanzo realized that self-defense wouldn’t help. Nataku had some sort of combat training. His own college courses were in charts and figures. He’d brought graph paper to a gun fight he’d never wanted.

Moreover: “I don’t want to fight you.” Sanzo tried to smear the blood from his lips. “I have no reason to fight you. My employees have probably already called the police–”

“You hurt him, so I’ll hurt you.” Nataku tipped his head from side to side, flexing his neck. “I won’t let you get away with it. You won’t even make an excuse.” Sanzo found himself backed against the trash cans, and the fence that separated the alley from the road. He was cornered, and as the back of his leg hit the metal can with a clank, he knew it. “I’ll ask again: do you have any reason for doing what you did?” Sanzo braced himself, raising his arms in what would be a futile effort to protect his face, but Nataku just cracked his knuckles again. “Make an excuse.”

Sanzo hung his head, feeling Nataku looming over him. “I’m not making excuses. I had a reason. I’m not good for him. He’d just get hurt if he stayed.” He pressed his back to the wall, trying to think of any good way out of this, still unable to just admit, _I’ll get hurt if I keep him_. “I hurt him now so he wouldn’t get hurt later.”

Nataku, actually showing an emotion now, scowled. “I see. You’re a coward.” He raised his fist, but just as Sanzo braced himself for the strike, there was a commotion at the other end of the alleyway:

“STOP!!” Goku! Sanzo's heart jumped into his throat as Goku pushed past Nataku and threw his arms wide between them. “STOP!” He set his feet wide, making himself as big as he could, but nearly doubled over as he tried to get a full breath. Sanzo gaped at the sight of him: he was heaving for air, soaked from running in the rain, but sweat beaded on his forehead – he must have run the entire way here. He sucked in a breath, and repeated, “Stop, dammit, I didn’t want you to do this!”

Nataku put his hands down at the sight of Goku, but his shoulders were still tense, ready to finish what he’d started the moment Goku was out of the way. “Please step aside. He deserves this and worse and you know it. He hurt you.”

“No, damn it, even I know that’s not how that works!” Goku didn’t budge, but his chest was still heaving, and Sanzo remembered that he kept his chest bound. He was probably having trouble breathing. Sanzo felt an inescapable need to help him, but his knees were shaking and he couldn’t move. Goku sucked in a breath again, forcing the words, “Look, when you get in a relationship, you take the risk that they’re gonna hurt you. Hurting is part of living, okay? Pain is how you know you’re alive! Just like happiness and sadness and anger, it’s part of being alive! So he’s not the one who hurt me, I am!” He licked his lips, and Sanzo hung his head.

“Goku.”

“But I don’t mind, y'know?” Goku turned to look back over his shoulder, and smiled. “Hope I’m not botherin’ you.”

“Goku,” Sanzo repeated, unable to summon another word under the roar of his racing heart, but Goku, luckily, always had something to say.

“You don’t have to love me, or even like me. I was alright before we met. I’m gonna be alright. I’m gonna learn, and keep living.” He turned back around to Nataku, but Sanzo couldn’t stop himself. He reached out and grabbed Goku, forcing him to turn around.

“Do _not_ learn from me. I’m not a good teacher.”

That wound Nataku up: “Keep your hands off of him!” He lunged, but Goku held a hand out and Nataku instantly stayed.

“No, it’s okay.” Goku shook his head. “Even if you didn’t mean to teach me, it was a lesson for me. You were the first person I fell in love with, but I knew I could get hurt if I did. Next time, I’ll know when someone doesn’t care about me before it goes too far. I’m tryin’ to tell ya I’m fine, Sanzo.”

Sanzo felt those words like a bullet to the chest. “No. No. Stop talking like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re going to comport the rest of your life around a bad lesson from a fucked up old man.” Sanzo pounded a fist to his chest. “I…” His hand trembled, and he grabbed both of Goku’s shoulders to keep himself upright, no longer caring that his weakness was on display. “I got scared.”

Goku blinked, surprised. “S-Sanzo?”

He’d broken enough that the rest of it spilled out, and he had no chance of stopping it: “If you loved me, then it would hurt so much more when I did fuck it up, or when someone else stuck their nose in and fucked it up for us.”

“Sanzo…” Goku shook his head, then reached up and wiped the blood off of his lips with his hand. “Jeez, he got ya. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t.” Sanzo winced, because even that kind touch abraded him. Being this close to Goku was a physical ache.

“Sorry.” Goku wiped his hand off on his own shirt, but rested the clean one on his shoulder. “But, I want you to know you have nothing to be scared of. I don’t think you were gonna mess things up, and I think the two of us can be strong enough against anything else that comes for us. And I’d never hurt you!”

Nataku, who’d listened quietly for the last thirty seconds with his arms crossed, raised a hand and volunteered: “I might.”

Goku squeaked indignantly and whipped back around. “Nobody asked you! Not helping!” He pivoted back around. “Sanzo, I wouldn’t have hurt you. I haven't hurt you before, have I?" He smiled wearily, and Sanzo felt his very soul ache at it. "Why would I now? I know you’ve been hurt before, but I’m not like that. I don’t want anything out of you, except maybe a little time and attention.” He clenched a fist over his heart and squeezed Sanzo’s shoulder, then laid his hand on his chest. “I’m just a dumb kid who fell in love with you. If you don’t love me back, that’s okay. But I still love you, and I’m gonna have to keep loving you for a while 'cause you’re in my heart now.” He rubbed his thumb down Sanzo’s cheek. “I won’t hold on if you don’t wanna give that love back. I’ll let it go and be alright, like I said.” He hesitated, still searching Sanzo’s face and eyes as if they might speak when he didn’t or couldn’t. “But if maybe you were lying when you said you didn’t care, 'cause of how scared you were–”

Sanzo couldn’t let him finish that. He couldn’t stand holding back anymore.

He yanked Goku close to him and folded his arms around him – not too tight, but so, so close. Goku stiffened with surprise, but didn’t wriggle or twist. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Sanzo’s waist. He opened his mouth, hesitated, then dared: “I love you.” Sanzo’s grip tightened a little, and he put his face in the crook of Goku’s neck and shoulder. “I really do. You don’t have to say it back if you’re not ready yet, but I love you, Sanzo.”

Sanzo held Goku as tight as he dared, his jaw clenched tight to keep his mouth from shaking. The rain poured down over the both of them, but it didn’t matter when they were together like this. He could admit to himself, at least, that he was still scared of what they faced, a future he couldn’t predict, but when Goku was here and warm against him and protecting _him_ instead of the other way around, it didn’t matter. He nuzzled the soft spot at the base of his neck, mouthing words he wasn’t sure he’d ever dare to say aloud, and it all felt so _bright_.

Finally, he whispered, “I can’t make any promises. I can only try to take care of you.”

Goku patted his back. “I’ll take care of you, too. We can both help each other.”

Nataku, who’d stood back and watched, finally muttered a, 'gross,’ and relaxed out of his fighting stance. “You could thank him for saving you.”

Sanzo snorted, then stood back to look Goku in the eyes. “My hero,” he said flatly, and slicked a damp spike of hair from his face. Goku grinned; he knew Sanzo meant it, at least a little.

“We should get you inside and get the blood off your face.”

“It’s superficial.” Sanzo could feel it crusting up, and damn breathing was going to suck for a few days, but he pushed his septum back into place and pressed a hand to Goku’s back and muttered, “I want to get you home. You shouldn’t be doing sprints wearing that tight thing on your chest. We need to get it off of you, and get Nataku out of here before the cops come and I have to explain why I’m not pressing charges.”

Goku rolled his eyes. “Sanzo, I’ve been a dude for way longer than you’ve known me, I know how to do it. I don’t do anything that gets my heart rate up in the binder. I got other options.” He snapped the strap on his shoulder, indicating what was under his shirt. Sanzo raised an eyebrow, and Goku pinked. “I missed the bus, and I had to save you somehow!”

Sanzo laughed under his breath, then kissed Goku on the cheek. “I’m glad you came.”

Nataku cleared his throat and crossed his arms. “He still ran three miles in the rain.”

“He did." Sanzo carded his fingers into Goku's hair, then motioned to the door. "Come in and dry off. I’ll get you something warm to drink and take you home.” Sanzo looped his arm around Goku’s shoulder and went to guide him in.

Maybe that would have been the end of it.

Except when they entered the bakery through the back door, Houmei was pushing her way into the kitchen. “Mr. Hassan! There's–” She saw Sanzo, then Goku and Nataku, and gasped. “Oh, Mr. Sanzo! And – ahh, you’re here too!” Sanzo, smeared the blood from under his nose with a dishrag, then passed a dry rag to Goku.

“Finish your sentence. What happened?”

“There’s a man here to see you, Mr. Sanzo, he said it’s important!” She worriedly looked between Sanzo, Goku, and Nataku, just as Hassan came out from the walk-in. He jumped a foot when he laid eyes on Nataku.

“Jesus, the guy beats you up and you invite him in?!” He jerked back in horror, as Nataku examined Hassan mildly.

“I didn’t have a reason to beat him up anymore.”

“Mr. Sanzo,” Houmei interrupted, “Will you please talk to this guy?”

“Whatever.” Sanzo toweled his hair quickly and put the bloodied rag in the wastebasket. He motioned to Nataku. “Stay here. Hassan, if you called the cops on him, I’ll deal with them too. Goku, with me. You have to tell Pippi you’re not single.”

Goku glanced to Nataku, shrugged, and followed. “The pretty girl with the pigtails? Why do I need to tell her that?”

“Never mind.” Sanzo pushed the door open, and found a young man he didn’t recognize and the over-sized, muscle-bound mechanic from Goku’s shop waiting. He frowned and rested his hands on his hips, hoping it made up for the blood he could still smell under his nose. “Gat, isn’t it?”

Gat nodded, but Goku’s face flashed with recognition. “Oh, you’re Hazel!”

“Y'remember me.” Hazel’s smile was thin and watery, unsteady. He looked like he might not even be standing upright if Gat’s hand weren’t on his shoulder. “I need to talk to the both of you. You need to…” He struggled, then cleared his throat. “I need to explain.”

Sanzo crossed his arms, glancing between Gat and Hazel; Gat stoic and calm, but Hazel fidgeting, twisting and wringing his hands. “Who are you?”

“Nobody to you, Mr. Sanzo.” Sanzo felt an edge of irritation – the little shit already knew his name. Hazel forced himself to look Sanzo in the eye. “But I’m a student of Professor Nii Jianyi, your brother. He… he asked me to keep an eye on you. I’ve been watchin’ you, at his behest–”

Sanzo nearly vaulted the counter, but Goku grabbed the back of his shirt as if he could see into Sanzo’s head and asked Hazel, “Why?”

“He told me he was worried, but it’s become more than clear that he was just using the information I gave him to hurt you.” Hazel put his hand over his heart. “And it’s become even more clear that I owe you – and him – a sincere apology. So, I’m–”

Sanzo snapped a hand over and hooked Hazel’s collar in his fingers. “No you don’t. You are not getting off that easy.” He leaned over, nose to nose with Hazel. “You and your bodyguard here, get in my office, now. I want to hear everything you know.”

Hazel swallowed twice, even as Sanzo let go of him, but nodded stiffly. “If that’s what you want.” Sanzo pivoted for the office waved broadly for Hazel to follow, and Gat caught Goku’s eye.

“He wants to fix this.”

Goku shook his head. “If he means what he says, then he’s done a lot more damage than he knows. Saying he’s sorry won’t fix what he did.” He thought for a moment of Hakkai and Gojyo, and crossed his fingers that they could fix things for themselves.

If he and Sanzo could, then they had a chance, didn’t they?


	45. What You Deserved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRUST ARC - 15
> 
> Hakkai and Gojyo face each other for the first time since they were divided. With everything laid out between them, will they be able to find closure?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to LePetitErik for beta-reading chapters 45 and 46! All remaining mistakes are mine.

**45: What You Deserved**

Hakkai hadn't been prepared for Gojyo's apartment. He'd seen it from the outside, the stooped, deteriorating facade, the roof in dire need of replacement. Sanzo had told him about Goku's apartment not three blocks away in an angry whisper, the stained, damp walls and the crumbling tile, and the single room hardly bigger than his parents' kitchen. The undrinkable water. He had worried that Gojyo lived in poor conditions. He'd had no idea.

Then again, all things considered, he should have thought.

Some of it was Gojyo's fault, surely. The walls were scratched and torn up, with scraps of discarded paper on the ground. There might have been posters there before, bits of blue tacky paste with shreds of paper left over on them, but now it was just bare, the poor conditions revealed. Old magazines were stacked on the coffee table, on top of the box television, and slipping and sliding onto the carpet, which Hakkai had no intention of looking any closer at since he couldn't name what color it was even after looking three times. Gojyo didn't seem familiar with the use of dresser drawers, hampers and laundry baskets, with his dirty things strewn on the back of his sunken-in futon and a mesh bag of clean clothes (hopefully) on the single kitchen chair. The one surprise was that there were no dishes in the sink, no food smells, but then, Hakkai could only imagine that the plastic bags Gojyo was carrying contained the only food in the house.

 _And whose fault is that,_ he reminded himself, and forced himself to tear his eyes away from him.

Gojyo quickly flipped through the mail (Hakkai noticed him scrunch his nose at a thick yellow envelope, but said nothing), then put his bags down as Hakkai gaped around at the damaged drywall and the crumbling exposed brick, then quickly cleared his clothes off of the futon. “Sorry about the mess.” He tried not to look at the remnants of his earlier tantrum, a little embarrassed at the crumpled posters in the trashcan now. Hakkai seemed to be pretending to be more interested in the one decoration he had left on his wall, a quilt stitched with a pinwheel of triangles in an ombre range of reds. “Uh, you can sit there.” He patted the futon. “Relax. It's comfier than it looks. I got a TV, though I know that's not really your thing, and all my magazines are car stuff, but whatever you like.” Gojyo adjusted the bandage on his hand, as Hakkai continued to study the quilt. “I was, uh, gonna make dinner, so...”

“It's lovely. I wish you'd shown it to me before.” Hakkai slowly extended his fingers to the quilt, brushing gently over the weave. Gojyo winced a little as Hakkai's fingertip traced one of the triangles.

“Jien got it for me. He took me to Arizona once. Family vacation.” Gojyo rubbed the back of his head. “Uh, get comfy, okay?”

“I'm alright. May I use the bathroom?” Hakkai turned, not quite looking at him. Gojyo winced again, but motioned to the two doors behind the kitchen.

“The open door. The closed one is a closet. Sorry about the mess.”

Hakkai thanked him under his breath and walked past him to it. Gojyo returned to the plastic bags stacked on the counter and started fishing things out and focusing them instead of anticipating Hakkai's every step: a small pack of chicken breast tenders, a little crate of mushrooms, a can of cream-of-mushroom soup, and a pack of French onion dip mix. He heard the buzz of the bathroom light coming on, then a beat of silence. Hakkai peered out around the corner. “The mirror. What happened?”

“It broke.” Gojyo shrugged and tried to hide his hand behind his leg, as if Hakkai hadn't been staring at the bandages.

“Ah.” Hakkai ducked back around, and Gojyo heard him start to sweep. He dropped the can of chicken broth and hurried around the corner to find Hakkai down on his knees, carefully scooping up bits of the broken mirror into his palm, and his chest seized up.

“Hey, no.” Hakkai lifted his face, eyes wide, pain crossing his features as they made eye contact, as Gojyo shook his head. “You don't gotta do that. I got a broom somewhere around here, I should'a gotten it earlier – I just – uh.” The words died, withering against the force of Hakkai's desperate stare. Hakkai dodged his gaze and continued to pick up the glass.

“You weren't expecting company, yes. You said as much.”

“Fuck – here.” Gojyo slipped an arm into the closet and grabbed a dustpan. Hakkai accepted it and swept the glass shards up, neatly and carefully, and Gojyo brought the trash can closer so he could discard it. Guilt struck him hard like a pouring rain on his back as the shards tinkled into the bottom of the can, and then Hakkai shut the door.

Gojyo tried to forget the pain he'd seen on Hakkai's face as he returned to the groceries, then got the little cookbook Koumyou had given him out from his jacket pocket. It couldn't be too hard to cook for two, could it? Hakkai had done it. He could just multiply the whole recipe for one person by two.

A little salt on the chicken, a little bit of rubbed sage and dried thyme, toss and set aside. The mushrooms go in the pan with a little oil and cook until they get soft and smell good, then add the broth. Hakkai could probably do this in his sleep, he thought bitterly as he stared at the mushrooms sizzling in the pan. He poured the broth on, dodging back as the oil splattered a little, but stirred the whole mix and watched as the broth came up to a boil. Hakkai emerged right as Gojyo opened the can of mushroom soup, cocking his head, then peering over at the cookbook.

“Casserole?”

“Mhm. It looked easy.” Gojyo stirred the pan, remembering to scrape the bottom and sides, then poured in the mushroom soup and stirred. Hakkai watched intently, and Gojyo felt compelled to fill the silence with words: "Uh, Koumyou. He gave me a cookbook. I thought I'd try it. I gotta eat, right?" He turned the heat down, just like the book said, and checked the ingredient list again. Hakkai was still staring, though what he was looking at escaped Gojyo completely. "I, uh, used to get by on my own with frozen pizza and canned soup and stuff like that, but I guess I kind of got spoiled for Hungry Man after having home cooking again. Jesus, I can't remember the last time someone made me dinner before I met..." He trailed off. Both he and Hakkai knew how that sentence ended. Then he muttered in concession, "Yaone. Jien's wife. When I lived with them and she'd cook for everyone. She's pretty okay at cooking. Kou's alright at it, too, but Jien's like me, he gets a little lost when you start talking cups and teaspoons and stuff." He frowned at the recipe, then grabbed the bag of rice from the counter and a coffee mug from the shelf. Hakkai watched as Gojyo poured rice into the coffee mug, wide-eyed.

"Perhaps I can help?"

"Nah, you're fine. You're a guest, after all." Gojyo pushed a bright smile towards him, then turned and dumped the rice into the sauce. "Besides, I really gotta learn to do this for myself, y'know?"

Hakkai strangled a small noise in his throat, biting back either a protest or a whimper, and rocked from foot to foot. Gojyo noticed him twist his wrists back and forth from hand to hand, too, left in right then right in left – he kept catching him doing that. "Go sit, the oven's hot and once this is in, it'll take a while." Maybe something else was up with Hakkai, more than just being shaken up at his car failing on him.

Well, no shit. Here he was facing the guy he dumped, and Gojyo was trying to pretend there was nothing fucked up about that. Of course what Hakkai had done was wrong, but Hakkai clearly regretting not at least ending things with Gojyo first before going back to the other guy. Plus, then there was the matter of this other guy. If he remembered what Sanzo said right, then the other guy got back with Hakkai...

_"... just to step on his heart one more time."_

Maybe the guy Hakkai had tried to go back to had taken advantage of him. That was fucked up. Gojyo wished he could crawl into Hakkai's head and understand what had happened, but how the fuck do you ask, "What went down when you cheated on me?" There was stuff you just didn't talk about. Hell, Gojyo had expected to never talk to him again. Seeing him might have been an inevitability, but he'd fully expected Hakkai to just keep moving forward without him.

Not standing still, stuck in place, as anguished over everything as he had been the last time Gojyo had walked away from him. Not staring on as Gojyo tried to pretend he knew what to do with raw chicken and sauce.

Gojyo tossed the chicken in the pot and stirred it, turning the sauce and rice on top of it until it was mixed in and buried, then put the whole pot into the hot oven and set the timer. Then, he circled the counter and herded Hakkai towards the futon. "I don't really have anywhere else for you to sit. Sorry." He finally got Hakkai to seat himself, and Hakkai promptly drew his knees in close, casting his eyes (deep-set with exhaustion, Gojyo realized, and wished he could rub the blue bags from his cheeks) in a slow circle around the room again.

"Is this... what I see... your entire living space?"

"The rent's cheap, and I don't need more." Gojyo bit his lip. "Guess you can see why I never invited you up. It's kinda grody, but there's a place for me to sleep and a roof over my head, 'less it rains, but hell, the drought ain't gonna stay broken for long right?" He sank down and sat on the other side of the futon, as far from Hakkai as he could be on the double-bed-length cushion. "I kept meaning to move out once money was stable, somewhere nicer. I just kept pushing it off." He shrugged and lowered his eyes, pretending that he hadn't halfway moved into Hakkai's house and waited for an invitation to stay forever. "Maybe soon, y'know? Once Goku's graduated and can work full time, and I can get a little more time to myself to actually work on that sort of stuff."

"I hope you can," Hakkai agreed softly. "Living here... a place like this... it can't be good for the spirit."

"It is what it is, and it is what it's gotta be. It's all I could do when I moved out." Gojyo rubbed the back of his head. "It was a stupid thing to do when I did it, sure, but now I'm stuck with it. I just have to make the best of it."

"Ah." Hakkai ducked a little deeper into the back of the futon, hunching his shoulders. He looked small, and Gojyo knew he was only a little smaller than him. He was crushing his own presence. Something really wasn't right.

"Look," Gojyo started, before realizing he didn't know where to start. Hakkai tipped his focus towards him, not quite making eye contact, as if Gojyo were taboo. "Look," he tried again, "I can tell you're not feeling your best. Is something on your mind? More than just the car, I mean, 'cause I promise, I'm gonna fix your car in the morning, good as new, it's gonna be fine. So, uh, what's up?" He gave Hakkai's shoulder a gentle jostle, and Hakkai shrank again. Gojyo frowned, and looked at his own hand as if it had an answer for Hakkai's behavior. Maybe Hakkai just didn't want him to touch him.

Hakkai wound his arms tighter around his legs, tensing further the longer Gojyo's question hung. His presence ached him, scraped at his nerves, and still Hakkai desperately wanted it. Him. His presence. He wanted to ask why Gojyo had shattered his mirror, but he could only imagine it was because he couldn't stand the sight of himself. His hair, too, why had he cut it all off? Hakkai wished he could piece Gojyo's mirror back together, the man who had smiled back out of it. Yet, watching him run his bandaged fingers through the short strands in exasperation or anxiety just made some unspeakable sensation trembled through every nerve.

 _He loved you_ , his memory reminded him unhelpfully. _He loved you, and you squandered it._

“I... I...” He couldn't distill his words, too many jumbling at the cusp of his lips. There were so many things he wanted to do. Like the shattered mirror, there were too many pieces to possibly repair, but there had to be something he could do. Some way to ask forgiveness. To perform penance. “I missed you.”

Gojyo shifted forward, raising an eyebrow. Hakkai wanted to believe that was hope in his eyes, but heavens, he couldn't fool himself. "I missed you, too," he said softly. "I..." His rich, warm eyes, once a source of comfort, settled on focusing on a space just below the bridge of Hakkai's nose, and Hakkai could tell. "I know you probably don't need to hear that from me."

Hakkai's vision whited for a second, because God, had he needed that. He forced back the wall of emotion threatening to rise up and crush him, and cleared his throat. "We... I ended things so quickly. I didn't think I had a choice. I wanted you to be free of me."

Gojyo shook his head slowly. "No, I get it. I mean, of course you wanted to get me out. I was... I understand, is what I'm saying."

Hakkai wasn't sure he understood. Gojyo was talking as if any of this was his fault. "It was nothing like that." He strained for breath, choking on emotions. "I didn't want you to go, but it would have been unfair to make you stay. What we had was so very good, and I wish I had never done what I did."

"Hey, hey, it's alright, calm down." Gojyo reached for him again, and something snapped in Hakkai. _He'd been trying so hard to resist, but he couldn't._ He seized Gojyo's hand, unable to resist his need to touch, to be touched, to be l--

_No._

He swallowed hard, panting as if he were running, but despite the panic surging through him, he couldn't make himself let go of Gojyo. Gojyo wasn't trying to pull away, either, instead staring at Hakkai, stunned, and Hakkai choked out a soft, “I want you.”

“Hakkai.” Gojyo's tones were loaded with disbelief and wonder, and Hakkai tried to pretend he was smiling in hopes that Gojyo wouldn't catch him forcing it.

“I... I want to be with you. Just one more time. I feel as if I never got to say goodbye to you properly.” Hakkai couldn't look at Gojyo any longer, but plunged into the sensation of his hand in his, centering the whole of his being around that point of contact. It was the only thing he wanted, the only thing he wanted to feel, everything else both too intense and too small to be felt under the intensity of that touch. Gojyo continued to stare, obviously not believing his own ears. His mouth worked without his mind: “I want closure.”

“Closure,” Gojyo repeated, and for a second Hakkai thought he sounded rueful. He dared look, to see Gojyo carefully considering him, and for once found himself completely unable to read his expression. Hakkai braced for the breakaway, the gentle let-down. Of course Gojyo wouldn't want him now. He knew what Hakkai was. He should never have done this.

Then, Gojyo carded his fingers into Hakkai's hair, tipped his head back, and kissed him between the eyes.

Gojyo hadn't realized how much he'd longed for Hakkai's touch until Hakkai had grabbed hold of him. He hadn't known how much of a relief it would be to have Hakkai want him, even if it was just “one more time.” Maybe he could have 'closure' too, whatever that meant. Maybe if he resigned himself to knowing this was goodbye, it would ease the sting that still remained.

"What is it you want?" He asked into the seam of Hakkai's lips. Hakkai answered by crushing his mouth against Gojyo's in a wild kiss. Gojyo could hardly keep up as Hakkai sucked, bit, and licked at his mouth like an animal unbound, before he broke off, panting again.

"Fuck me," he whispered, and began to pull at his belt. Gojyo gaped -- Hakkai swearing was usually a turn-on, but now it was a shock. Hakkai threw his belt aside and opened his slacks, then looked Gojyo dead in the eyes. "I want you to take me for everything I'm worth."

Impossible. Gojyo knew how much Hakkai was worth. Still, he had to wonder: was he even looking at the same Hakkai? His Hakkai, the one he'd given himself over to, was polite, kept a little distance, kept a cool mask on, but those tiny touches of affection that bled through in his subtle ways were like the sweet nectar from a jack-in-the-pulpit – God, did he want it, but how close could he get without risking losing his head? Hakkai didn't make demands. Something was off.

“Hakkai?” It wasn't a question. Gojyo wasn't sure what he was asking. Hakkai's answer was to dive back in and kiss him again, brooking no argument and allowing no quarter. Gojyo couldn't keep up, parried back as Hakkai crawled towards him. He somehow ended up on his feet, Hakkai chasing him to a stand, relentless and desperate. Gojyo wanted to believe there were feelings in that kiss, but he couldn't parse what they were. Hakkai just clenched his fists in the front of Gojyo's tee, his breath hot on Gojyo's cheek:

“I need you.” He latched onto Gojyo's neck, shivering his teeth across the muscle and vein, then sucking at the flesh. The heat rolling from his warm mouth warmed Gojyo's skin, but it only made him shiver at the difference of the cold from the rest of the room. Hakkai was all bedroom eyes and warm touches, but there was something so, so wrong in this.

And yet Gojyo needed too. His body still naturally reacted to Hakkai's touch. God, he still craved, he knew he was fool enough to suck up any scrap of affection Hakkai – _or anyone_ – would stoop low enough to give him.

"Okay," Gojyo muttered into his skin. "Let me get a condom."

"Of course." Hakkai let his arms fall from around Gojyo's shoulders. "You know where I've been."

Gojyo didn't want to think about that too hard.

When he returned, Hakkai had slipped his pants off and folded his glasses on the table, but kept his sweater. "I'm cold," he said softly, voice barely audible under the patter of the rain against the roof and window, but he opened his arms. "Hold me close and warm me up, please."

The tenderness in that simple request nearly stung. Gojyo put the condom on the arm of the futon and obeyed, sliding his arms around Hakkai's shoulders and pulling him close. He traced the gentle slope of Hakkai's back down to the base of the spine, then slid a hand down under the curve of his ass to trace the crease of leg and hip. "I'll get you warmed up, babe." He punctuated with a soft kiss under Hakkai's ear. Hakkai shivered again, but slung his hands around Gojyo's neck and tilted his head to give him access, and Gojyo kissed every inch of Hakkai's jawline and neck he could, licking and sucking at the skin like a man crawling over a desert presented with an ice cube at its end. At the same time, he traced his fingers up the curve of Hakkai's ass and traced his entrance. Hakkai moaned softly, unable to suppress his wanton little noises as Gojyo worked his fingertip in, and he backed away a little.

“No, I don't – no.” He slid a hand into Gojyo's hair, then fastened it tight to hold his hair and looked him dead in the eyes. “I want you to take me roughly against the wall.”

Gojyo's eyes widened, his mind reeling in bewilderment, his gut coiling with excitement. He'd known Hakkai was creative in bed despite his polite exterior, but this was just a little filthy; this almost seemed like too much. He could do it – of course he could do it, he could lift Hakkai easily, he could hold him there, he could do anything Hakkai wanted, but – “You're sure?” He slid his hand down the back of Hakkai's leg, then hiked his knee up to his hip. “You want me to push you up against the wall and take you?”

Hakkai's eyelids fluttered closed. “I do.” His hand curled against Gojyo's back, and Gojyo felt the blunted edges of his fingernails in his back. _Oh._

Gojyo kissed him deep, then backed him into the wall, hiking his legs up. Hakkai hooked one ankle on his lower back, then braced his other knee on his ribcage, and pecked at Gojyo's lips before rolling his shoulders into the brick ( _it scraped him, it hurt, but that was fine, it didn't matter_ ) and smiling at him. “Don't keep me waiting.”

Gojyo took a deep breath, then carefully moved to touch himself. He was hard enough, but knowing this would be the last time was making it hard for him to keep it there. He bowed his forehead against the wall, his chin in the crook of Hakkai's shoulder, and jerked himself, mouthing the words he'd never been able to say over and over. It wasn't helping, but Hakkai _wanted_ him. He had to try. He hoisted Hakkai's legs up and bent his hips forward, then grabbed the condom from the futon, tore it open with his teeth and rolled it on, then nudged the head of his dick into the outermost ring. Hakkai gasped, but Gojyo shushed him gently and pushed in a little deeper. "Nice 'n' easy, there you go..."

“Gojyo, please.” Hakkai strained to speak, and clutched a little tighter. “All of you. I want it hard.”

 _Ohh, fuck._ Gojyo pushed the rest of the way in, and Hakkai was suddenly squeezing the life out of him, his arms wrapped tight around his neck, and his body like a vise around him. Gojyo instinctively pulled out. “You're tight, babe, you need me to--”

Hakkai cut him off with a needy cry, “Please, go!”

Gojyo winced, but pushed back in hard, and Hakkai moaned and ground down against him. His passage was vise-tight, too tight. Gojyo felt like he was being suffocated, like he'd gone too deep and wouldn't be able to get out, but now Hakkai was whimpering and begging him to thrust again, “again, please, I need it,” and Gojyo had to. He pulled back and pushed in again, and Gojyo felt Hakkai's fingernails dig in on his back. His passage clenched and pulsed around him, and _fuck,_ it was too much.

“Need lube, babe, you're so fucking t--” Hakkai used his own momentum and lifted then lowered himself onto Gojyo's dick. Gojyo groaned at this, and rocked forward on his toes to push Hakkai into the brick. “Fuck, you really need it, huh?”

“So very much,” Hakkai panted into his ear, then nipped his earlobe. “Please. Faster. Harder. I want to leave an imprint on your wall.”

Fuck, Gojyo could fuck him _through_ the wall with encouragement like that, damn the lube. He pressed Hakkai's shoulders in, stepped in, and used the leverage he had to fuck into Hakkai like he meant it, as if, if he played his cards just right, he could leave some part of himself with Hakkai.

That the soft, needy noises that spilled from Hakkai with every touch, every thrust, would echo in both of their ears for long after this encounter ended. That Gojyo could leave indelible little dents on his skin like the imprint of a pen's nib under a page that had been written on, a message Hakkai could still read if he ever wanted to remember. That he could somehow chase the pain from Hakkai, swallow it and keep it for himself and let Hakkai walk away satisfied.

No, this was all he could do. All he was good for.

And now, he doubted even that.

Hakkai was moaning at each rock of Gojyo's hips up into him, but his grip was too tight on Gojyo's neck, and his fingernails were biting into his shoulders hard enough that Gojyo was surprised he wasn't bleeding yet. Worse, his noises weren't all happy. Gojyo preferred the Hakkai that talked instead of just crying out, the one who told him how good he felt, how much Hakkai enjoyed him, compliments and adoration, Christ, _Gojyo had felt loved when Hakkai made love to him_ , and now he could feel nothing. Worse, some of Hakkai's noises were choked with pain, and his body was still too tight. He held Hakkai up by his shoulders to brace him and backed away just enough to look him in the face. He'd gone pale, he was biting his lip, and the glimmer that lit his eyes when they'd shared a bed before was gone when he opened them, replaced with the trace of tears.

“Please don't stop.” That broken whisper told Gojyo he had to.

Gojyo swallowed, but pulled out. “You're not enjoying this.”

“Gojyo, _please_.”

“If you're not enjoying this, then I'm not enjoying this.” Hell, he was already going soft just thinking about it. “I'm gonna put you down, and maybe we can t–”

Hakkai's eyes widened with sudden terror. “No, please, I like when it hurts, that's what I want, Gojyo.” His jaw chattered when he spoke, eyes unfocused, and his expression was raw. “Hurt me. Violate me. If you don't punish me, who will?”

 _Gojyo would never, Gojyo would never, but he wanted it. Needed it._ **_Deserved it._ **

Anger rushed up through Gojyo, and he pinned Hakkai in place. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” In one swift motion, he pulled Hakkai off, then dropped him onto the futon and stood over him, scowling. “When the hell did I say I wanted to punish you?!”

“You didn't, of course you didn't, you would never, not even if I asked.” Hakkai wasn't looking at him; he was far away, he was bound and one wrong word from being gagged, he was asking Nii to stop, but Gojyo brought him back with the crack of his fist against the arm of the sofa.

“What the hell are you talking about?!”

Hakkai wheezed, a ragged gasp of breath, as Gojyo's chest roiled with rage, but the words shook their way out of him: “I wronged you, I hurt you, and I can't make it right but at least you could punish me. You deserve revenge. I deserve punishment --”

“-- And you thought you'd trick me into it?!” Gojyo pounded his fist on the arm of the sofa again, and Hakkai shuddered and ducked down. “You--!” He stormed a step back, a thousand words launching like missiles, but he swallowed them instead of screaming. “You come in here, and you--!” He threw his hands down in frustration, as Hakkai trembled in his shadow. “I f – you – God damn it!” He couldn't string the words together, not when he looked at Hakkai. Not when Hakkai looked so terrified, so fragile, so unlike himself, like he could break with a single strike. How could he do that to him? How could Hakkai ever imagine that he would – _of course_. “I'm not like that!” He threw his hands back, then leaned over Hakkai thumped a fist to his own chest. “I might be a dirty sonofabitch, but I'd never do that to you!”

Hakkai, possessed by something that still lived somewhere in him that couldn't stand the rage and pain on Gojyo's face, reached for him through his blinding agony and tried to touch his hand. “Gojyo.”

Hakkai's sweater sleeve slid back when he laid his hand over Gojyo's fist, and Gojyo saw the bruises around his wrist. His heart dropped through his entrails, and his anger went white hot until it just felt like pain. “Did I...?” Hakkai froze in place as Gojyo wrapped his hand around Hakkai's and turned it over, guilt rushing into him. “Fuck, I hurt you, fuck, no...”

“No, you would never,” Hakkai choked out. “He did that. He tied me up with his belt, and...”

Gojyo's heart softened, and he clasped Hakkai's palm. “He didn't even bother to patch you up?” He lifted the bruise to his lips and kissed it. Hakkai whimpered, the sensation too raw, and Gojyo winced and crouched down in front of him. “This ain't all he did, is it? Tell me.”

Hakkai bit his lip. “He...” His nerves were too raw, his heart was already halfway torn out, but he couldn't hurt more than he already was, so he spoke: “He took me hard and rough, the way we did when we were together, but he was too rough, and I wanted to stop, so I told him to stop, but he didn't, not until he finished. He... he told me that he ended my sister's life...” Hakkai heaved a little. “He told me he had sex with her and tricked me into ending her life... and he left me there...”

“He fucked you and then tells you that, then walks the fuck out?!” Gojyo inhaled, fire burning down his throat. “And you told him to stop?!” Hakkai weakly nodded, and Gojyo's anger reignited, but it wasn't at Hakkai anymore. “That's assault. Fucker. He sub-dropped you. On purpose.” Hakkai blinked with surprise as Gojyo closed both hands around the bruises on his wrist and gave it a tender squeeze. “No wonder you're acting fucked up. Someone who takes you those places needs to bring you back.”

He grabbed a blanket from under the futon and wrapped it around him. Hakkai couldn't react, not sure how to, as Gojyo swaddled him up and kissed both of his palms, then stroked his hair. “I can't fix the things he did or said, but the last thing you need is more pain.” He folded Hakkai's arms under the blanket with the rest of him. “You might think I'm only good for the one thing from all those pictures and shit, but let me do this for ya, babe.”

Hakkai, looking small, stared out from under the blanket hooding his eyes, blinking as his heart twisted with confusion. “Gojyo?”

Gojyo answered with a soft kiss to his forehead. “Let me get us both some water, and we're gonna sit and talk about stuff and cuddle, and I'm gonna try to help you be you again.”

Hakkai tried to extricate himself, heart racing. “No, you shouldn't, I don't des--”

“Hey, no, you need this.” Gojyo eased him back down with firm hands on his shoulders. He didn't look happy, no, but there was kindness in his eyes and mercy in the firm line of his mouth as he willed Hakkai to stay in place. “I'm gonna take care of you. Someone's gotta help you get a hold of yourself, bring you back here from that dark place he left you in. A world that doesn't have you in it is one that ain't worth its fucking carbon.” He kissed Hakkai on the forehead, and the two of them looked into one another's eyes, emotions raw between them. Gojyo winced, then lifted his fingers to Hakkai's face.

“Hold still. You've got something...” He wiped a few tears from the crescents under Hakkai's eyes. “Right here.”

Hakkai swallowed hard as Gojyo turned from him. “I'll be back in a second.” With that, he went to gather his clothes and clean off, but Hakkai rooted himself in place to wait. That last touch had been a tether to ground him in this place, in this moment. They had something between them, and this might be his last chance to rescue it.


	46. ...?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRUST ARC - 16
> 
> All that's left now are all the words.

**46: ...**

“How do they feel?” Gojyo had finally worked Hakkai out of his sweater to expose the wounds on his arms, then set about wrapping them. He knelt on the floor in front of him and finished taping the gauze down on Hakkai's left wrist, then flexed the right. Hakkai gingerly lifted and turned his left hand over, then nodded.

“Having the cuts wrapped is keeping them from weeping, and they don't hurt as much. Thank you.” He rubbed Gojyo's cheek, tracing his old scars. Gojyo hummed, tilting his head into it, then he rose and slid onto the futon, right at Hakkai's side. He slung his arm up over Hakkai's shoulder naturally and comfortably, as if nothing had changed.

“You made it,” Gojyo muttered into Hakkai's ear after a minute. The rain drummed the roof and windows around them, but the intimate, kind contact of Gojyo's hand running down his back centered Hakkai in this moment. “Yeah, he hurt you, but look at you, nice and strong. You survived, and you're still here with me.” Gojyo turned and brushed a few soft kisses that weren't quite impersonal against the line of Hakkai's jaw. “You just needed someone to patch you up a little, and here you are, good as new and just as good as before.” He lifted and kissed Hakkai's palm. “So strong.” Hakkai dared look at him, at the spread of his long eyelashes over his cheeks and his sober expression. Gojyo, too, chanced a look at Hakkai, and smiled for him. “What kind of aftercare do you usually like? Me, I like getting praised and told I'm good. Back when I did this sort of stuff, I had to deal with a lot of humiliation play, so that helped bring me back. What'd your ex usually do?” Hakkai had to search for an answer around his many, many questions, but it was difficult to filter back into himself around Gojyo's mollifying tones.

“He... he'd usually help put bandages on. Or massage where I'd been bound.” Without Hakkai having to say a word more, Gojyo shifted his hold to massaging Hakkai's arms.

“You carry a lot of tension here, babe. No wonder.” Gojyo had stopped looking at Hakkai again, and Hakkai's heart cried out in his chest. He withdrew his arm from Gojyo, but as Gojyo looked up, Hakkai rubbed his cheek, keenly feeling his scars.

“I... I want to be held.” He forced himself to look away, the guilt choking him all the more as Gojyo's stony but kind gaze laid into him. “Am I allowed to ask for that?”

Gojyo wrapped his arms around Hakkai again, drawing the blanket tighter around him. Hakkai gradually melted against Gojyo's chest, into his comfort, and somehow, he began to reconnect with his own soul. They stayed there in silence for a few minutes, Hakkai centering himself around the rhythm of Gojyo's heartbeat.

Then, Gojyo heaved a sigh. “I'm still pissed off.”

“You very well should be.” Hakkai sat up a little, enough to look Gojyo in the face. “I... I did something dreadful, and made it worse by manipulating you to my selfish needs. I find myself unable to apologize enough, yet again.”

Gojyo shook his head. “I'm not mad that you cheated on me. Like, it'd've been nice if you'd told me you were done with me first..”

“No, it's not...” Hakkai pursed his lips and hung his head. “It's... it was a mistake. I was deceived. Nii, he had these... these photographs...”

Gojyo swallowed thickly, edging towards the end of the cushion, on tenterhooks.

“... you and Banri.” Hakkai cringed. “Behind your garage. It looked like... like you and he had been intimate, and combined with your sudden withdrawal from me, and my anxiety, I became upset, and Nii... Nii pretended to open his arms to me.”

“Me and Banri?” Gojyo frowned. “I used to be with Banri, you know that, but there shouldn't've been pictures of it.”

“He said that, too. That you hadn’t been with him. After.” Hakkai winced, shutting his eyes tight. Gojyo scowled to think of all the things Nii had told Hakkai _after_.

“He said a lot of shit. You said he--” Gojyo sucked his lower lip in. “Your sister?”

“Him sleeping with her, if he wasn't merely trying to get a rise out of me, was incidental, though I hadn't known until just then,” Hakkai rasped, nearly under his breath. “She... Our family, there's a curse. Every woman for five generations has developed cancer after becoming pregnant. My sister was no exception.”

Gojyo raised an eyebrow. “Fuck, really?”

Hakkai laughed a little, sounding a tiny bit hysterical. “Yes; it seems we're a unique case. They're still studying scrapings of my sister and mother's cells in a government facility.” He scrubbed his hand down his face, and spoke through his palm. “But she was my sister before she was a case study. I tried to save her or nurse her, but she wasted away until she was on life support. I was trying to take care of her and my own life and failing. Nii grew tired of watching, I suppose, so when they called to request she be taken off life support, he asked me a question, and I said yes without hearing him. He knew I wasn't listening, he just needed a yes, and then she was dying and I just wasn't ready...”

Gojyo realized his fist had closed tight. “You could sue the hospital.”

Hakkai shook his head. “There'd be no point; she was going to pass. I just, I wasn't ready to let go. She was my only family, the only person who'd loved me, but it was selfish to keep her alive in that state.” Hakkai slumped further down against the futon. “Perhaps Nii was right.”

“Don't fucking go there, it was your decision and he took it from you.” Gojyo tried to move Hakkai's hands from his face, but Hakkai shook his head.

“I knew he'd manipulated me before, how foolish I was to believe him again. And then those photographs...”

“The ones he showed you of me.” Gojyo's chest tightened, and Hakkai nodded.

“It looked like... like you and he were... but Nii said the person who took it said you had been trying to shout him down. It just looked like... and... I was so frustrated, I'd believe anything.” He choked down a whimper. “He tricked me.”

Gojyo sucked in a breath, then exhaled slowly. “I need a smoke.” He got up from the blanket and went to dig his cigarettes from his jacket. Hakkai couldn't stop his jaw from falling, and Gojyo caught it when he turned around, box in hand. He considered it, then set the box aside. “Actually, it can wait.” He returned to Hakkai's side and re-ensconced himself there, even slinging his arm around him. “I... is it my fault? Because I...” He struggled for words, but Hakkai completed the sentence:

“Withdrew. It's not your fault, no, it's something wrong with my head." He rubbed his forehead. "I didn't know how to react. Nii, he poisoned me in a way.” Hakkai's chin sunk. “When Kanan was dying, he withdrew from me. He said it was his way of letting me deal with things, but really, he just didn't care that I was falling apart. When you started to push me back, becoming distant, emotionally unavailable, it brought back something in myself I can't stand.” He put his palm over his eyes. “I'm... I've got this anger in me... Nii would exploit it in bed, but when I actually became angry, I felt so ugly in the aftermath.”

Gojyo frowned, struggling to imagine Hakkai angry. “You've never been like that around me.”

“No. You don't seek it or exploit it, you're nothing but good to me.” Hakkai rubbed his brow and sighed. “But he found it amusing. He said it was my true nature. I do upset, yes, but I can suppress it. It's easy to limit myself around you, because you never seek to hurt me.” He shook his head and dragged his fingers through his hair. “You never hurt me, you were so kind...”

Gojyo clasped Hakkai's hand, the gauze of their bandages warming with the friction. “Focus, babe.”

“Ah. Of course.” Hakkai struggled to take a breath and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Focus, focus...” He seemed to center himself. “You saw it. Tonight. Imagine, demanding you cause me injury...”

“Yeah, and I didn't like that, but we both know that's not who you are.”

“I hate that part of me.” Hakkai shook his head. “I feel like a different person, and I hate that person.”

Gojyo was quiet, but he slid his hand down Hakkai's back a few times. Finally, “You shouldn't. It's part of who you are.” He rubbed the small of Hakkai's back. “But that's why you did it, huh? Those pictures?” Hakkai nodded, and Gojyo furrowed his brow as he thought. “What about...” Hakkai turned to Gojyo, raising an eyebrow, but something hit Gojyo and he choked out a laugh. “It was, in a way, huh?”

“Gojyo?”

Gojyo got up again, this time for the pile of mail on the table. He grabbed the yellow envelope and took an old laptop computer out from one of the drawers on the coffee table. “If this is what I think it is...” He ripped the envelope open, and a flash drive fell out. Gojyo grimaced at it, but plugged it into the laptop's side and flipped it open on the table. Hakkai watched Gojyo log in, and a folder popped up on the main screen. “Banri said he was going to send you these pictures if I didn’t meet his demands. That’s why I got all dodgy and paranoid. You think you got a dark side?” Gojyo laughed bitterly – the tone frighteningly foreign from his earnest mouth, so Hakkai thought – and clicked on one of the folders, then pushed the machine to Hakkai. “Just, do me a favor and don't look at anything with a 'last edited' date more than seven years ago.”

Hakkai frowned, then clicked on one of the image files. Gojyo's laptop groaned a little as it booted up, then an image popped up: Gojyo, a little smaller, a little thinner, his hair a little shorter than it had been before he’d cut it off, being forced down on his hands and knees and held there by an older man, with a man reaching in from off camera shoving a glass dildo down into Gojyo's ass. Hakkai felt something lurch in him, and clicked to the next picture in the gallery. Gojyo, again, being pinned down by two men and fucked hard with the dildo, as the other man forced his dick down Gojyo's throat. Gojyo sucked in a breath as Hakkai flipped through the entire sequence of Gojyo being held down and filled with a series of toys, his back arching, mouth stretched in howls of either ecstasy or pain, or maybe both. Gojyo watched Hakkai's gaze travel the screen as he perused at each image, impassive, unreactive, and Gojyo waited for some reaction, anything. Hakkai gave him no such satisfaction, but instead closed out of the viewer, then scrolled through the file and clicked on a folder labeled “Videos.” Gojyo had to muffle a groan as Hakkai opened one of the videos, and the speakers crackled to life.

 _“Look at this pretty little slut.”_ He heard his own voice, muted by a ball gag, then peeked to see the video. Sure enough, he was bound in woven ropes that crisscrossed his chest, that held his arms and legs pressed to one another, his dick wrapped like a present with a bow under his sac. He was blindfolded, too, and whoever held the camera reached out and pulled the ball from his lips. _“You a good little chink slut, huh? Tell me what you want.”_

Gojyo cringed as he panted on the screen, his mouth red and wet, but the him on screen licked his lips and rasped, _“Your dick down my throat.”_ Gojyo couldn't watch or listen as the person holding the camera gave him what he'd asked for, but by some stroke of mercy, neither could Hakkai. He closed the video and pushed the laptop back onto the coffee table, then folded his hands and took a breath.

“I imagine,” Hakkai said carefully, “that if I were to continue examining the contents of this flash drive, I would continue to discover further images and videos of you in, to be brief, compromising positions.”

“Yup.” Gojyo dug his fingers into his hair, wishing he had enough left to twist and pull. “Pretty damn likely.”

Hakkai shut his eyes, breathed in, then out, then rested a hand on Gojyo's knee. “I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask for context.”

“And I owe ya that.” Gojyo hung his head. “It was after foster care, and after I flunked out of high school. Jien said I had to get a job if I wasn't in school, but I was a half-educated punk and I couldn't find one. Banri said he knew some guys, and...” Gojyo crossed his arms. “And yeah. I signed on to do amateur porn.”

“You were paid for this?”

“Yup. Not a ton, or anything, but enough that I could show Jien my pay stubs and say I was doing warehouse work, and hope he never looked closer.” Gojyo squeezed his own chest, then ran his hands up through his hair again. “I didn't care at the time. I figured, this is what I can do, and I was pretty good at it. Banri always said I gave a fantastic blow-job, now I was getting paid for it. Plus, they said I was marketable, so I brought in money.” He choked out a disbelieving laugh. “I even got requests.”

Gojyo dared to look at Hakkai, expecting horror, pity, even anger. Instead, he seemed contemplative. “Requests?”

“Y'know.” Gojyo fidgeted. “Positions. Acts. Guys they wanted me with.”

“And you were … marketable.” Hakkai said the word like it was a worm crawling between his lips. Gojyo lowered his eyes.

“S'what they said.”

“Because you're Asian.” Hakkai pursed his lips, and Gojyo hunched his shoulders.

“Yeah.” Gojyo dropped his chin a little lower. “Half.” He reached for the laptop. “S'not just... look, so, Asians are popular? But I filled another niche too. Let me just see if this is still up.”

He searched for something on a private browser (because like fuck if he wanted this in his search history), then sat back and gestured at the page he found for Hakkai's benefit. _“Real Rez boys!”_ Gojyo, albeit younger and wearing a cheap imitation of war paint on part of his face, was still the banner image. Hakkai frowned this time, and Gojyo heaved a sigh.

“Fuck, that's so gross now.” He dared look at Hakkai, but Hakkai was affixed to the screen, speechless, and Gojyo felt compelled to explain: “Banri knew about my family. My real mom. I told him after Jien took me on this stupid 'family reunion' trip back to Arizona--”

“Arizona?”

“Yeah, shithole little chunk of rez called Winslow West.” Gojyo clicked his tongue. “He wanted me to get in touch with my roots, so he took me to the culture center a few miles from home and we did a guided tour of some of the traditional towns around the Mesas. He got me the quilt there, 'cause I saw it and fell in love with it.” He patted the quilt on the wall behind him. “Then, he took me to Winslow West proper, where I actually lived when I was little. Nothing but trailers and crooked fences and dirt as far as the eye could see.” He winced and dragged his hand down the linen, then into his hair. Hakkai squeezed his arm.

“You... you were in foster care, but if you were Native...”

“Oh, yeah, sure, you fall out of a Hopi snatch, the government wants to keep you with family, or at least with Hopi, but not one motherfucker in Winslow West wanted my ass.” Gojyo squeezed his forehead. “My mom had a sister, but she got hit by a drunk driver a year after I was born. Dead. And, if what I found out from the old drunks in town was true, a year or so before I came around, Mama Lone Stag shot Daddy Lone Stag in the head with her grandpa's old six-gun when she caught my grandpa hitting on a neighbor girl.” He smirked wearily. “Runs in the family, I guess.” His smile dying, he shrugged his shoulders back, shaking off the little bit of good humor he had. “I tried to write my Gran in prison after I found out, but she had no idea who I was and didn't care. Apparently Mama never told her about the good-looking Japanese guy hiding from the cops in Winslow.” He bit his lip. “So, when Mama...”

The words gummed up in his throat, but Hakkai grabbed his hand and Gojyo found air to breathe, then ran his palm down his face, over his old scars. “Mama left and didn't come back, and wasn't coming back, I just remember finding her with a belt around her neck and waiting for her, and...” He laughed a little, half-hysterical, half-bitter. “Nobody wanted the son of the town bicycle in their house, because everyone might'a had a ride but nobody wanted their wives to think they might have been the ride that led to me.”

He exhaled. “But Jien's Dad was on the birth certificate, they found his legal wife, and the rest is history.” He paused, sucked on his lower lip, then muttered, “It was still cool, finding out that there was all this history behind me. Even if that history didn't want me as part of it.”

“I told Banri I was Hopi, all excited and stoked about it. He thought it was funny, but maybe he was right. Kinda stupid, getting all hyped over people who didn't give a shit about me when I lived with 'em.”

Hakkai frowned now. “Gojyo.”

“But Banri said if we painted me up and got me drunk and played it up, they could make different porn outta me.” He smiled wryly. “And I was getting money, so it was alright.”

“You sold yourself.” Hakkai shook his head. “Your identity, your body.”

“Yeah, see, that's what I thought you'd say.” Gojyo sank back against the cushion and stared at his own image. “I ain't stupid, and you know, I get it. Hell, I got it then.” He clicked on one of the videos, but muted it as he skipped past some of the setup for the video, but he and Hakkai could see what was going on: A too-young looking him, being roughed up and forced to his knees in front of someone much bigger, much older. Gojyo watched for a few moments, then finally turned the sound back on as his mouth moved:

_“C'mon, stop. I'm tired. Please, just lemme take a break...”_

Someone seized him by his hair, and a rougher timbre growled, _“What, you leading me on, slut? You don't got a choice here, pretty boy...”_

Gojyo killed the video and closed the laptop. “That was the last time. They wore me out so they could fucking play me for rape fantasies.” A wild laugh escaped him, through he tried to smother it into his palm. Hakkai, however, had picked up on something else:

“How old were you?”

Gojyo shut his mouth for a second and tried to slump deeper into the sofa. The rain outside seemed to come harder for a minute. Finally, he broke through its cadence with a mutter of, “Not old enough. I told you not to watch some of that? Yeah. I passed for eighteen, I told 'em I was eighteen, but me and Banri both knew I was JB. You and me could both go to jail if I let you watch that.”

“Oh, Gojyo.” Hakkai tried to take Gojyo's hand, but Gojyo gesticulated wildly.

“And I wanted to forget I'd done it!” He slapped at the lid of the lapop. “I told Banri, destroy it, all of it, once we started – fuck, once _I_ started getting right! Tell those guys to take it down, to take me off the web, and delete all of it! I didn't wanna be nothing but a half-breed slut!” He flopped back into the futon, smearing a hand over his face. “But it chased me anyway. Those pictures your shitbag ex showed you are probably from when Banri was tryin' to blackmail me. He told me he'd send flash drives like that one to my property manager, to Jien, and to you unless I cut him back in on my business.”

Hakkai inhaled and twisted to face him as all the pieces clicked at once. “You thought I'd seen this.”

“The property manager got theirs.” Gojyo rubbed little circles over his eyelids. “The girl there forwarded it to me, see? Jien got his and screamed me out and now we ain't talked in a week. I thought you saw me for what I was too. I thought you saw just what I was and didn't want me no more so you went back to your ex.”

“My God, Gojyo, how could you think I – over something so petty as some old photographs and videos?!” Hakkai grabbed hold of both of Gojyo's hands and clasped them between them, the bandages on both of them heating with the friction. “First, let me say, _no_ , I have never seen this before. And even if I had! Even if I had!” Hakkai swallowed hard against his excitement, then emphatically shook his head. “It wouldn’t matter. This -- exploitative trash! -- this has _nothing_ to do with you. I'm angry, yes, I'm horrified, but not at you. My fury is at the people who convinced you of _this_ and exploited your beauty and passion – not to mention your heritage! – for cheap thrills! They're the ones who are wrong here!” Gojyo pressed his fingers against his eyes a little harder, as Hakkai licked his lips, caught his breath, and went on: “And the fact that you were afraid I'd seen this meant that you denied whatever Banri asked of you.”

Gojyo tried to speak, but couldn't, his throat too thick, but he worked the words out somehow: “He wanted to use the garage as a chop shop. Said he'd ruin me if I didn't.”

“You stood by your principles, even when you thought it meant losing...” Hakkai paused, mouth half-open, thought half-formed, before breaking it off into: “Why did you think I would leave you for this?”

Gojyo felt his jaw trembling, tried and failed to clamp it down, but he knew that trying to guise it under bravado just wasn't an option anymore: “Because this is where I've been. This is what I am, and I don't like it. I never wanted you to know.” He tugged at his scalp and exhaled sharply. “I tried to leave it behind, tried to leave it all behind, but it's always been a raincloud that shadowed my steps. This. Mom. Jien. My... my real Mama... I wanted to forget. Hell, sometimes I can forget Mama. I just wanted to be the guy you met, and nothing I was before that.” Breathing was getting harder now, air catching in his windpipe, but Hakkai clasped the handhold he still had and squeezed, willing him to go on. “I didn't like who I was. How the fuck would anyone else?”

Hakkai, miraculously, had an answer: “Because it's you, Gojyo.” He shifted partway onto Gojyo's lap to come face to face with him. “Because that person you were before has become the person you are today. You are still the too-kind man I met several months ago. The fact that all of this is behind you does not change who you are now, who you have become.”

Gojyo could only gape as if Hakkai had spoken in tongues, then bowed his head. "I wanna believe that. So bad." Hakkai leaned in to let Gojyo rest his forehead against his chest and combed his fingers through his short hair. "I... It's stupid, but... I told myself, maybe there'd be a sign that I was doing right. That I was finally good enough." Hakkai made an inquisitive noise and stroked Gojyo's hair, entreating Gojyo to go on, and he had to obey: "I thought it was you."

Hakkai sagged. "Did you?"

"Yeah.” Gojyo lifted his head to look Hakkai in the face, as Hakkai blanched to a paler hue. “I mean, you show up out of the blue one day, and you're nice and cute and you flirted with me, then I get to know you and you were smart and talented and just, you know, something about you just clicked." Gojyo felt his knuckles had go white holding his scalp. "Like, not just, 'I wanna get him in bed,' I wanted to know you. Everything about you. You made me feel special. Like I mattered. I thought that it was a sign from God or the universe or something that I was doing good, and I wanted to keep you. I loved you more than I ever thought I could love anything."

Hakkai began to tremble against him. "You... loved me?"

Gojyo paused, searching Hakkai's face for a moment, the storm that roiled behind his eyes. This wasn't how he'd wanted to tell him, how he'd wanted to say those special words, but it was out now. All he could do was correct:

"More than that, I wanted you to love me." He bowed his head again. “I wanted someone to love me, want me, 'cause nobody's ever _wanted_ me. I thought it'd be you.”

Gojyo suddenly found Hakkai weaving all of his thin, worn fingers through his hair, and Hakkai carefully lifted his face as if he were precious. “I love you.”

Gojyo felt his heart freeze. This wasn't how he wanted this moment to happen. He'd hoped they'd confess their mutual love and it'd be a celebration of everything they were. Instead, Hakkai was clearly heartbroken and a little devastated. He shook his head and slid his palm down to the back of Gojyo's neck, holding his gaze firm. “I never thought anyone would love me, not the way I love. I never thought I'd hear those words.” He pinned Gojyo in place with his despairing stare, commanding his attention, eyes wide with pain and need. “I met you and I wanted to believe I could be loved.” He squeezed Gojyo's shoulders. “Why do you think I tried so many new recipes? I wanted you to taste them. I wanted to make something good enough that you could look past my flaws and love it and possibly love me for it.” He was shaking. Gojyo was shaking too. “I wanted to make muffins as pink as my cheeks felt when you smiled at me, I wanted to make red velvet cake that was as beautiful and sweet as your hair and smile, I wanted to make you smile with every special cup of coffee I put into your hands, special only because it was yours.” Hakkai's face was wet again, and Gojyo smeared at the trails running down his cheeks.

“Babe, shh. It's okay.”

Hakkai hitched back something that sounded suspiciously like a full-on sob, and Gojyo's heart broke when Hakkai hung his head. “I couldn't force my feelings onto you. I knew that. You were fragile. Everyone is fragile. What if I hurt you? Especially when I found out how easily you could be hurt...” He swallowed hard, mouth and throat working. “And yet you... you wanted me...”

“More than anything. And I ain't that fragile.” Gojyo thumped a fist on his chest, lips turning up for a watery smile. “See? I'm still in mostly good repair.”

Hakkai, in tremors where he leaned against Gojyo, shook his head. “But I hurt you. Please don't pretend that I didn't.”

“You did, yeah, but it ain't like I haven't been hurt before.” Gojyo tried to ease Hakkai back down with a warm hand on his shoulder, but Hakkai shook his head.

“It's very different, because you were in love with me.” He couldn't quite look at Gojyo, but Gojyo cupped his cheek and tipped his face towards him.

“Still am.” He stroked Hakkai's hair back from his face. “You think I'd just stop?” Hakkai gaped, as if he were waking from a dream. His smart mouth had been completely halted, and he could only gasp out weakly:

“I... you...”

“Love you.” Gojyo kissed Hakkai on the cheek, then brushed his lips against his mouth. Hakkai inhaled sharply, then crushed Gojyo into a kiss, a needy noise passing between them, and Gojyo knew he'd never been wanted more in his entire life. It may not have been how he wanted it to happen, but Gojyo would never trade it. When Hakkai stopped kissing him, his mouth didn't stop:

“You do love me, you still love me, you do, it's nigh unimaginable but you're here and you do love me, I –”

“Shh. Yeah.” Gojyo kissed him on the mouth again, and wrapped his arms tight around him. “Just don't let go of me right now, yeah?” Hakkai weakly whispered agreement, and held tight onto Gojyo.

Around them, the sound of the rain died, and the two of them shared each other’s warmth and the cadence of each other's pulse, the ragged little gasps of Hakkai breathing, the rustle of their clothes against the futon and blanket. Then, the klaxon of the oven. Hakkai jumped, though Gojyo caught him, and the pair of them shared a nervous laugh before Hakkai shifted off of Gojyo's lap to let him stand and take the casserole dish out.

“So, this is gonna sound weird, but I'm kinda starving all of a sudden.” He poked at the chicken in the pan with a fork. “I know this ain't gonna be anywhere near as good as what you'd make, but would you like some?” He winked at Hakkai from over the counter. “I mean, I ain't so good at this, but I should make my boyfriend dinner once in a while, shouldn't I?”

Hakkai still hadn't regained his composure, and Gojyo had to guide him to the one chair at the table, but kept the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He set Hakkai in the chair and pulled an empty plastic cooler from the pantry for him to sit on, but as he turned to get the plates, Hakkai tugged his belt loop.

“Do you mean that? You'll be mine?” He was wide-eyed, and looked small and delicate without his glasses. Gojyo, chuckling, retrieved them and set them in his hand, but used his hold on his palm to kiss his knuckles.

"Absolutely.”

Hakkai wasn't letting go. “You'll come back? You'll let me keep you?”

“You can pack me up and take me home tonight if you really want.”

“No, not there.” Hakkai shook his head. “I can't go back there.”

Gojyo frowned. “I like your house.”

“It's full of bad memories. I'd rather burn it to the ground.” Hakkai hunched his shoulders, and Gojyo rolled his eyes, yet found himself smiling.

“It won't matter where it is, I'm just fine coming home and knowing you're waiting for me. You wanna come live here?” He gestured around him helplessly, but Hakkai quickly shook his head, and Gojyo chuckled. “Maybe we can just paint your place over. Fresh start.” He ran his thumb over Hakkai's knuckles. “Do you want a fresh start?”

Hakkai gaped in his disbelief. “Can my sins be cleansed that easily?” Gojyo rolled his eyes.

“You really think I can give you crap about sins and old crimes? C'mon. You don't have any problem with anything I did, I'm not gonna hold your past against you.” He ran a hand over Hakkai's cheek, and Hakkai leaned into his touch.

"I... it seems impossible that you would want me back."

"We still got a lot to talk about.” Gojyo caressed his cheek, then ran it back into his hair. “But I think we can do it, y'know?”

Hakkai nodded, then captured and squeezed Gojyo's hand. “I'll be honest with you from here on, as best as I can. I'll tell you whatever you'd like to know.”

“Same goes for me.” Gojyo patted his own chest. “You ask, I'll tell you. I got nothing left to hide; you know the worst of it.” He bit his lip. “Maybe not the worst yet, but... I'll tell you, if you wanna know.”

Hakkai reached out and wove his fingers into Gojyo's, clasping them over his heart. “We can make our way there, one day at a time.”

“Damn right.” Gojyo squeezed back, then crouched down to eye level with Hakkai. “So yeah, this is real, and sure we're both gonna try a little harder, but I want this. I want you, and fuck, I'm pretty sure you want me back.” He laughed to himself, and Hakkai bowed his head to Gojyo's in a somber nod. Gojyo nudged his chin up to press a soft kiss to his lips, and all the butterflies he thought he'd left behind swarmed back to life, as if to tell him just how right this, and he, was. He spoke into Hakkai's mouth, to his ear, and to the very universe he'd waited for a sign from: “If you'll have me, well..." Gojyo couldn't withhold a chuckle as he said it:

**"You've got me."**


	47. One Big, Beautiful Mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once they clear up the aftermath…
> 
> TRUST ARC - FINALE

**47: One Big, Beautiful Mess**

“It wasn’t that bad, really!” Hakkai couldn’t keep from laughing as Gojyo, pouting, scraped the last of the mushroom casserole into the trash can. “It was a bit salty for my liking, but it was a very nice meal.”

“I saw the faces you were making.” Gojyo stuck his tongue out at Hakkai from behind the kitchen counter, then turned to the sink. “Seriously, you think I can’t read you by now? I’m getting better all the time.”

“It was salty, yes, but I’m proud of you for making it all by yourself. Perhaps we can adjust the recipe.” Hakkai fidgeted with the blanket in his lap, gazing at Gojyo with open adoration in his eyes. “You took initiative, and even if it was salty, it was perfectly serviceable.”

“Serviceable.” Gojyo snorted. “You know, it’s nice that you sound like yourself again. I missed that smart mouth.”

Hakkai laughed softly into his palm. “I think I’m beginning to enjoy being myself again, too.” Then, he stood, still wearing the blanket like a cloak, and approached Gojyo from behind as he scrubbed at the dishes. “I can finish those later; it’s only fair, you cooked, you know.” He slipped a hand around to Gojyo’s front and slid his palm up his chest. “Come sit with me.”

Gojyo couldn’t resist, and let Hakkai lead him back to the futon, fine with leaving the dishes for a little longer if it meant a few extra seconds with Hakkai. The sky was still a little dim, though the clouds were clearing, so Gojyo turned the lamp on, then let Hakkai drag him to the sunken-in spot they’d been in before. Hakkai wrapped his arms around Gojyo’s waist, sighing contently.

“I think I’d be fine just keeping you right here, forever.”

“Eh, not forever.” Gojyo grinned sheepishly, then carded his fingers into Hakkai’s hair and stroked his head. “Gonna have to take a piss eventually.” Hakkai made an unhappy noise, though Gojyo could still feel his mouth curved into a smirk against his chest. “Plus, I’m gonna go in tomorrow and fix your car, and you know they’ll fall apart in the kitchen without you.”

“Ah, I suppose.” He huffed, but squeezed Gojyo tighter for a moment. “I wasn’t doing all that well in the kitchen of late. They essentially gave me the boot until I could get myself together.”

“Really?” Gojyo teased Hakkai’s hair a little, pursing his lips as the light shifted on his face. “It’s pretty tough to think about you havin’ it rough in the kitchen.”

“When I can’t focus… when all I can think about is…” He shut his eyes tight, and Gojyo toyed with his hair a little more, until Hakkai murmured, “I simply can’t think about my work. I tried, but I kept thinking of you.”

“Yeah?” Gojyo lifted his head a little, then kissed his forehead. “Well, maybe you could think of me and use it to bake. Like with the brownies.” He chuckled under his breath, then kissed his cheek a few times. “Think you could come up with a new recipe for me?”

Gojyo could nearly feel the spark run through Hakkai. “A new recipe?” He sat up, the futon creaking from the sudden shift in weight, and searched over Gojyo’s face with wonder running through his eyes. “I’ll make something for you. Anything. What would you like it to be? A muffin? Cupcakes? I could make cookies the very color of your eyes, that spiced chocolate brown with just a touch of crimson in the middle–”

“Surprise me. I want you to get back in that kitchen tomorrow, I want you to put it together whenever you have time, and I want you to show me when it’s done.” Gojyo fluffed his hair, and Hakkai smoothed it down, pretending to be annoyed for only a moment. “We got a deal?”

“Ah, I would agree, but a deal implies that you’ll do something in return.” Hakkai brushed a palm over Gojyo’s head. “I’d like you to grow your hair out again.”

“Is that all?” Gojyo snorted, even as Hakkai played with his hair.

“I can’t fathom why you cut it. It looks fine this way, but I very much liked it long.” His gaze roved Gojyo’s face again. “Why did you?”

Gojyo tossed his head, the way he might when it was long and in his eyes. “Eh.” He rubbed his brow. “I guess, when I looked in the mirror, I didn’t see me, and it pissed me off.” He paused. “Guess the, uh, mirror’s comin’ out of my security deposit.” Hakkai laughed a little through his nose and kissed Gojyo’s bandaged hand. Gojyo smirked, and caught Hakkai’s chin. “We’re two sides of a coin, I guess. I ain’t me without you.”

“If I didn’t love you so, I’d call you corny.” Hakkai giggled, then rubbed the blunt ends of Gojyo’s hair. “But will you grow it out again? For me?”

“Sure. It grows fast.” Gojyo wiggled an eyebrow. “You think you can finish your new Gojyo special before I finish growing it out?”

“I think I can. We have a deal.” Hakkai sealed it with a kiss to the mouth, and the two of them rubbed noses, scooting ever closer to one another on the futon. Just as Gojyo tilted his head to capture Hakkai’s lips, there was an excessively cheery tune from the table, and Hakkai jumped, then reached for his cell phone.

“It’s Sanzo. I’m sorry, I really must take this.” Hakkai moved the blanket to his lap, and Gojyo folded his arms and pouted as Hakkai answered. “Good afternoon, Sanzo–”

“ _He answered!”_ Gojyo could clearly hear Goku’s voice through the earpiece, and grinned to himself.  _“Hey, Hakkai! How’re you feeling?”_

“I’m feeling much better than earlier, thank you.” Hakkai rubbed Gojyo’s knee, smiling into the receiver. “One moment.” He covered the phone, stifling a giggle as he told Gojyo: “Goku’s calling on Sanzo’s line.”

“That’s a hell of a relief,” Gojyo chuckled, and Hakkai beamed, then returned to the call.

“What can I do for you, Goku?”

There was a pause, and Gojyo faintly heard Goku saying in an eager squeak,  _“I heard him talkin’ to Gojyo! They must be together!”_  There was an indistinct answer from a lower voice on the line, and Goku spoke up,  _“Um, Sanzo says we all gotta talk. Can you come in?”_

“Right now?” Hakkai raised an eyebrow, then frowned.

“ _I mean, um, right now is good, but, um… Are you busy?”_

“I don’t have a car. Er, Gojyo does, but… Goku, really, you’ve called at a bad time.” Hakkai let out a nervous little laugh, and Gojyo claimed his other hand and kissed his knuckles. Goku giggled on the other end of the line.

“ _Yeah, I get it– ow! Sanzo, do I have to sic Nat–”_

“ _Hakkai, this is serious.”_ Sanzo was on the line now.  _“You and Gojyo both. You can fuck like mad rabbits and celebrate getting over your own stupid asses later, we need to talk–”_

“ _Aw, hell, Mister Sanzo!”_  Gojyo faintly recognized that voice, and from Hakkai’s sudden frown, so did he.  _“Let them have their night! I can come back and talk to the two o’ them in the morning, I promise I ain’t goin’ nowhere!”_

“ _I’ll hold him to it.”_ Gojyo jumped, nearly dislodging Hakkai, because he  _did_  know that voice, what the hell did Gat have to do with any of this?! Sanzo sighed heavily, then spoke low and rough into the receiver.

“ _I need to see both of you tomorrow. Here. Six AM.”_

And then, Goku reclaimed the phone:  _“And I'ma get mad if I don’t see any hickeys on either of you, get back to makin’ up already!”_

“That is the plan, Goku.” Hakkai spoke with query in his tones, but he merely smiled when he glanced back to Gojyo. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Night, kid.” With that, Gojyo plucked the phone from Hakkai and hung up, then slung both of his arms around him into a squeeze. “So, what was that all about? Why would my mechanic be with them?”

Hakkai hummed dismayed agreement. “And that regular of ours, Hazel–”

“Hazel!” Gojyo snapped his fingers as he remembered the drawling kid who’d stared at him while he played pick-up hoops with Goku and his roommate at the Y. “Yeah, I thought I knew that voice, he goes to Goku’s school! I met him when you were away, that time Goku took me out to play basketball.”

“Ah!” Hakkai pursed his lips. “Oh, what a curious coincidence…”

“Dunno if that’s a coincidence.”

“Nor I,” Hakkai admitted, but he leaned deeper against Gojyo. “But it can wait, can’t it? I want to enjoy you just a little longer.”

“Mhm.” Gojyo shut his eyes and accepted Hakkai’s weight and warmth against him. “As long as you want. We’ve got forever.”

“Forever?” Hakkai sounded hopeful, his hand sliding up Gojyo’s chest.

“You’ll have to pry me off with a crowbar.” Gojyo took his hand and kissed his fingers, then tangled his legs with Hakkai. “You wanna watch a movie? Goku gave me his Netflix log-in.”

“Mm. I’d love a movie. Is  _Chocolat_  on Netflix?”

“ _Chocolat_?” Gojyo said the word with a little more relish than necessary, already grinning as he pulled Netflix up on the laptop. “Is it a documentary?”

“No, no, it’s a lovely romantic drama set in the rural French countryside, about a widow and single mother who opens a chocolate shop.” Hakkai snuggled down into Gojyo’s chest. “You won’t like it, but we can make out if you get bored.”

Gojyo chuckled, stroking Hakkai’s hair as he started the movie. “I’ll try to like it, but I get to choose next time. How much of the  _Fast and the Furious_  series have you seen?”

“Oh, my, those would be a new experience.” Hakkai shifted into a sideways lean against him, and Gojyo accepted him with an arm around the shoulder. “Next time. We have all the time in the world.”

“Every second,” Gojyo agreed, smiling helplessly at the thought of having Hakkai here, with him, just like this, every night for the rest of their lives.

Damn, who would have thought he, of all people, would go from being broken up with a guy to considering how to propose to him in less than a day?

But then again, what they had was something really special, Gojyo was sure. Something unbreakable. Nothing could change that.

* * *

When morning came, Hakkai was in the same place he had been after falling asleep halfway through the movie, curled against Gojyo’s shoulder. Gojyo had woken when Hakkai had started talking in his sleep, and gently played with his hair as he waited for him to wake.

Hakkai did talk in his sleep and had, for as long as Gojyo had shared a bed with him, rarely anything sensible but sometimes snippets of recipes or murmurs of denial. Sometimes, when Gojyo woke up for a midnight piss, Hakkai’s eyes would be wide open and Gojyo would jump a foot, surprised that he’d woken up except he hadn’t. He just slept with his eyes open. Weird. It was weirder when he talked in his sleep with his eyes open. When he was sleeping soundly, he tossed and turned and shifted, sometimes enough to wake Gojyo. Gojyo had learned not to care. He loved sleeping next to Hakkai.

Nearly as much as waking up with Hakkai.

Hakkai blinked his eyes open after a few minutes, and smiled. “You’re here.”

“Where else would I be?” Gojyo chuckled and pushed a few sleep-tousled strands of hair from his face. Hakkai made a happy noise, leaning into the touch. 

“I suppose I thought I might open my eyes and find myself at home or in my car, that yesterday was a dream, or that the past two weeks were nothing but a nightmare.”

“Nah.” Gojyo backed off and helped Hakkai sit up. “This is real life, see? I’m here, you’re here, and apparently, we gotta go talk to Sanzo in about an hour.”

“Ah.” Hakkai made a face as if he’d tasted something unpleasant, but rose. “Do you have clothing I can borrow?”

“It’ll be mine, but you’re not that much smaller than me, we can probably figure something out.” Gojyo went to his laundry basket to fish for clean things, then motioned. “Go on and shower. I ain’t got a mirror no more, but I promise you’ll still be handsome once you’re clean.”

Hakkai chuckled, and the pair of them went about the tasks of the morning, showering, dressing (Hakkai in a pair of Gojyo’s pants, a belt drawn tight, and a plain sweatshirt), and each helping to wrap one another’s bandages. Hakkai checked over all the cuts on Gojyo’s hand and covered them with fresh gauze, and Gojyo re-wrapped Hakkai’s wrists, and kissed them as he released him. Hakkai didn’t have to tell him how much he appreciated that gesture; he ran his hand over Gojyo’s cheeks, letting his palm linger at the crook of his jaw, cradling his chin as if beholding a precious, delicate treasure.

“I’ll take you home and make you breakfast after whatever it is Sanzo wants has been accomplished.” Hakkai kissed him quickly. “How would you like your eggs?”

“Ah, hell, you sweet-talker, you know I like anything and everything you feed me.” He tilted his head to rub his nose to Hakkai’s, and muttered, “But if we’re talkin’ favorites, that omelet with the basil all rolled up in it is real nice, or the poached with the runny yolks.”

Hakkai, still smiling, and stood, leading Gojyo with him by the hand. “Anything for you. Remind me to make you a Florentine Benedict next Sunday. I’ll add basil to my Hollandaise sauce to make it greener.” He squeezed Gojyo’s hand, and Gojyo grinned.

“I’ll remind you, ‘cause I’m gonna remember. I’m already excited thinking about it.”

“Is that to say, your appetite’s back?” Hakkai studied him, looking just a little sly, and Gojyo chuckled and twined his fingers with Hakkai’s.

“If that’s how you’re trying to tell if I’m feelin’ alright, let me just say it right out: I’m the best I’ve been in forever.” He slid up to lock his elbow with Hakkai’s. “Not even Sanzo’s gonna get me down. Let’s go get his bullshit over with.”

Hakkai chuckled into his hand. “I’d disagree with your language choice, but I absolutely agree with your sentiment.”

The morning was misty after the previous day’s rains, but the sky was pink and clearing as they drove from Gojyo’s apartment towards the block their workplaces shared, and they cleared other things up as Gojyo’s rattly little Nissan crossed the train tracks:

“How soon can you end your lease?”

“I’m month to month, so if you’re serious about moving me in, I can give notice that I’m moving out later today.”

“Month to month, my, my.” Hakkai sounded unimpressed, and Gojyo chuckled.

“Well, the landlady never knows when some idiot’s gonna get himself hauled off to the slammer for selling or holding or whatever, so she doesn’t bother with annual leases. She liked me ‘cause I pay on time and my check only bounced once, and she’ll be happy I’m moving out 'cause I’m going somewhere better.”

“I suppose we’ll take it as serendipity, then. If only all complications were so easy to clear up.” Hakkai sat back and sighed contently. “We can go through your things and sort what you wish to keep from what we can discard or donate to charity when we’re both off, too.”

“Not gonna lie, I love my old futon, but most of what I got is just whatever I could afford so I had a place to sleep and a spot to eat. I could fit my whole life, everything I need, into one box.” Gojyo smirked wearily over the wheel. “I guess it makes it easier to just sort of meld my stuff into yours, since you’re already all set up.”

Hakkai hummed, but it was a little unhappy. “When we redecorate the main room, we can do it together, so it reflects both of our tastes rather than just mine. I can’t be happy living in the scene of my crime.”

Gojyo groaned, and slid one hand from the wheel to take Hakkai’s just as he parked behind the garage. “Babe. Darlin’. Love of my life. I’ve forgiven you. We gotta get you to forgive yourself.”

Hakkai shuddered a little when Gojyo squeezed his hand. “I will. I am trying. I think that destroying any evidence that it happened will help me.”

“That’s fine.” Gojyo smiled and kissed his hand, then unbuckled his seat belt and opened his car door. “Let’s get on with dealing with what we’ve got in front of us, and go from there, yeah?”

The two of them walked to the main road, but as they moved through the mist, it became suddenly apparent that not all was well on their block. It looked like a tornado had blown through, leaving thick papers strewn all over the road, stuck to the garage’s doors and windows, and on the buildings all the way up the street. Gojyo scowled, and picked up one of the papers.

And blanched.

“Fuck.” He crumpled the page, then hurried to grab a few more. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He turned them all over, then spun around to where Hakkai stood, bewildered. “It’s pictures of me. The not-so-good ones.”

“What?” Hakkai’s eyes went wide, and he ran over to pick up one of the papers on the ground. Sure enough, an image of Gojyo spread-eagle and playing with himself greeted him, and he paled. “Are – are all these –?”

“Yeah.” Gojyo had an armful of them now, but despite himself, he started to laugh. “I figured it out.”

“How can you–”

“Banri. Fucking Banri.” Gojyo kept picking up, crumpling, and gathering more of the pages. “He doesn’t know where you live, and since you’re always in the bakeshop, he couldn’t pass off his little flash drive to you to ruin my life, so he basically had the weirdest fucking Kinko’s trip I can imagine and plastered my dirty laundry all over our block so both of us would know what he’d done. He knew you’d see it this way.”

Hakkai took it in, then shook his head and joined Gojyo in picking up the trash. “I’d laugh, but I rather feel like finding him and ensuring he knows my precise opinion of these images.”

“Yeah?” Gojyo smirked. “If I knew where he was, I’d make sure to litter the floor with his teeth, but since I don’t, the best I can do is clean up the mess in front of me.”

“I’ll help.”

The two of them had barely made a dent in the mess when Sanzo pulled up in his car with Goku in tow, screeched to a halt in the no-park zone in front of the bakery, and bolted over to join them with Goku a step behind. “What the fuck is all this?!”

“Holy crow,” Goku breathed, and Gojyo and Hakkai both saw him gaping at one of the overturned pictures. He pointed right at it. “Gojyo, this guy looks like you but he’s doin’ creepy sex stuff!”

Gojyo and Hakkai traded glances, and Gojyo sighed and answered, “Yeah, he sure looks like I did six years ago.”

“No way.” Goku’s breath escaped him in a weak rattle, and Gojyo rolled his eyes and continued picking up the litter.

“Yeah, my old business partner tried to blackmail me out of my garage. Looks like he made good on his threat.”

“Fortunately,” Hakkai added, “it is early yet, so hopefully few have seen all this. Would you kindly help us in cleaning up this mess?”

Sanzo, who had picked up one of the photographs, taken a long hard look at the picture, swallowed  _hard_ , then tore it up and stuffed it in his pocket, merely nodded. “Let’s just never speak of this again. We can talk business when our businesses are presentable again.”

Goku was already clearing the front yard of the garage, and Sanzo joined Hakkai and Gojyo on the street. Without a word, they united to pick the mess up, Sanzo trying not to look at any of the images as he and Hakkai moved up the street and Hakkai explained to Sanzo what had happened that brought him and Gojyo back together (leaving out a few choice details). Goku and Gojyo worked at clearing the garage proper, and Goku explained what had happened to them:

“My roommate found out Sanzo broke up with me and went to beat him up, and I chased him to tell him to cut that out.” Goku had to jump to reach one of the pictures that had somehow gotten pasted higher on the wall, but Gojyo easily reached over him to grab it.

“So, Sanzo got on his knees for his savior, huh?” Gojyo smirked and gave him a nudge with his elbow. “Hope you kept him there a few minutes, if ya know what I mean.”

Goku snorted. “Don’t be gross. Nah, he told me he was wrong, and that he’d gotten scared 'cause he didn’t want to love me and lose me.”

“Is that what it was?” Gojyo shifted his mouth left and right, thinking. “Yeah, I get it. I’m glad he got over that. You seem like you again.” He grinned and fluffed Goku’s hair. “Now ain’t you glad you didn’t hook up with me!”

Goku laughed hard, then held one of the pictures out at arm’s length, pretending to study it like a fine piece of art. “I dunno. You’re pretty hot.”

“Don’t make this weird!” Gojyo snatched the picture out of his hands. “Shit, it’s bad enough my brother and his husband and wife saw this crap.”

“Oh, crap, they did?” Goku gaped at Gojyo’s back as he sauntered past him to dump a wad of crumpled papers into the garbage.

“Like I said, Banri wanted to ruin my life. He knew where my brother lived, so he probably mailed it to him or put it in their mailbox, something like that, and Jien took a good hard look then called and told me what he thought of me. And that’s why I smashed my phone.” Gojyo shrugged and kept on picking the photographs up. “Damn, for a dude who said he was hard up, ol’ Banri sure ran up a fortune on the damn color copies.”

Goku had gaped at Gojyo’s back for a solid few seconds. Then, he shook it off. “I gotta make a quick phone call, I’ll be back.” He hurried into the garage office, and as the door shut behind him, Gojyo noticed a large piece of paper taped to the door that Goku had missed.

“Seriously, that asshole got an eight-by-ten?” He rolled his eyes and went towards it, just as more footsteps hurried towards them.

“Kouryuu! Hakkai!” Sharak was dashing towards them with Hassan close behind. “I just came outside for the first time in a few hours, I just saw, but I don’t know who–”

“We already know,” Sanzo muttered, shaking his head. Gojyo halted, as Sharak, grinding her teeth together, threw a few crumpled pages down (which Hakkai quickly scooped up).

“This is sickening! Why the hell would-–”

“My ex-business partner is an asshole who knew too many of my secrets,” Gojyo answered, rolling his eyes. “Guess it’s fair game now. I was a dumb kid, alright?”

Sharak stared at him, then pursed her lips. “Point the prick out to me. Exploiting your old mistakes is plain low.” She then turned back to Sanzo and thrust her hand – and a thin envelope – towards him. “This envelope was taped to the door as well, with your name on it.”

Sanzo grunted and accepted it, and Gojyo turned back to the big paper taped to the door and yanked it off. It didn’t rip – nicer paper, Gojyo surmised – but the picture came off and fluttered to the ground, and Gojyo realized that this photograph was not of him. A strangled noise escaped him, as he got a clear view of Hakkai post-coitus, his wrists still bound by a belt with blood running over his hands, bruises on his backside and thighs, and another man’s spend on his lower back. Gojyo inhaled, his lungs trembling in his breast, and whipped around to see that Sharak was holding a similar sheet of paper folded over twice in one white-knuckled hand.

“Hey, Sharak, if that what you’ve got there is the same thing I got here, you need to give it over!” Gojyo marched over to her, already crumpling the one he held. Sharak turned to him, then glared down her nose.

“Don’t be rash. I was getting to that!” She faced Hakkai, but Gojyo could already see a hint of regret in her hawkish stare. “Listen to me. I need to know if you have ever given anyone permission to take or distribute photographs of you in the nude.”

“What?” Hakkai started, tensing up and drawing his shoulders in tight, as Sharak unfolded part of the photograph in her hand and she whispered something to him. His jaw fell slack. “I’d… never…”

“Your fucking ex. I’ll kill him,” Gojyo growled. “Say the word, babe, and I’ll feed him his own heart.”

“And deprive myself the opportunity to rend him limb from limb? I think not.” Hakkai took the printout from Gojyo, sorrow and rage warring on his face. “I wonder who’s seen this.”

“I have.” Sanzo was making a face as he read what appeared to be a handwritten note, and Hakkai winced. “He texted it to me. Bastard.” Sanzo shook the pages in his hand. “Nii’s left me some screed about honesty and some crap about living the way you want without being tied to societal expectations and – fucking bullshit.” He turned over a page to something that looked printed rather than handwritten, and turned purple. “I’ll fucking kill him!”

“Guys?” Goku was outside at the garage door, frowning at an envelope pinned to it, one with Gojyo’s name written on the front. “Um, someone left a note here for Gojyo.”

Gojyo turned, and realized that it had been under the large picture Nii had left. Gojyo crossed the street again in three strides and snatched it from where it was taped. “That fucking…”

“Gojyo, no!” Sanzo chased him, but Gojyo had it open before he could grab it.

“No, fuck you, I wanna see what the sorry sonofabitch had to fucking say!” He unfurled the note, reading the handwritten part aloud:

_“Though we have never met, I owe you a duty of care for the sake of your business. It has come to my attention that one of your employees has deceived you regarding their identity.”_

Goku went ashen, and Sanzo hurriedly drew him close.

“It doesn’t matter, alright? It doesn’t fucking matter. The person he’s talking about is dead, like you told me, and you’re here now.”

Gojyo turned the page, to see what looked like a birth certificate, with the handwritten note: “ _Original, unedited._ ” He scanned the page, only to find no name he knew, albeit a surname:  _“Son.”_  “Goku, is this–” Then, he saw the first name and the gender marker. He flipped his head up and stared at Goku hard for a very long second. Hakkai had come and rested his arm around Goku’s shoulder as well, as Sanzo braced him and Goku hung his head. Gojyo returned his focus to the page, mute. He turned his gaze back to Goku for a moment, then cocked his head. “Huh.” He looked at the page again. “Funny. I just completely forgot how to read.” Then, he shredded Nii’s note and the certificate to pieces, adding a deadpan, “Oops. Clumsy me.” He put the pieces in the ashtray beside the garage door and dropped his lighter into it. “Guess the old man’s right. Whatever that stupid piece of paper says doesn’t fucking matter.” Then, he strode over and put his hands on Goku’s shoulders, crouching to look him in the eyes. “It doesn’t, kiddo.”

Goku, his expression wrought, whispered a soft, “Thank you,” then bowed his head. “I… I would'a told you, but…”

“You don’t gotta make excuses. I get not wanting people to know where you’ve come from, not when you’ve changed so much.” He tossed a roguish grin to Hakkai, then patted Goku’s shoulders. “Come on. Let’s all keep cleaning this up.”

Gojyo didn’t let Goku go before ruffling his hair so vigorously he actually stumbled a few steps, and they broke into teams again, Sanzo and Hakkai, Gojyo and Goku, and Sharak and Hassan joined the cleanup effort too, talking and laughing between themselves as if today were any other day. Each caught snippets of the others’ conversations across the way:

Gojyo heard Sanzo telling Hakkai, “I’m going to need that credit referral. I’m getting my own place. I’m putting Goku somewhere quiet and clean to recover after his surgery.”

“Ah, you’re on a narrow timeframe, are you?”

Sanzo shrugged without breaking his stride. “If it means taking him home to my parents, so be it. I think they like him better than me anyway.”

Hakkai heard Gojyo and Goku talking from his side of the street: “So, why’d you cut your hair?”

“I felt like a change, I guess.” He smiled through the little lie. Goku snorted.

“Well, it looks good, anyway. Like, a whole different kind of sexy.” Goku grinned. Gojyo snorted, and dusted his cropped hair back with a swipe of his hand.

“Yeah, that seals it, I’m growing it back out.” He winked at Goku, as Goku pretended to groan in disappointment, then continued cleaning with a nonchalant, “Oh, and expect Hakkai to invite you to a shitload of taste tests.”

The next to arrive were Koumyou and Toudai. Koumyou marched straight up to Gojyo and threw his arms tight around him without asking. Gojyo dropped the armful of posters with surprise, but pulled away and scooped all of them up again in a hurry, as Koumyou, smiling through obvious sadness, stood back, hands folded at his waist as Gojyo cleaned the litter up.

“I thought you may have needed that.”

“Uh.” Gojyo cocked his head, just as Hakkai came to his side with a trash bag and swept the pages into it, before looking to Koumyou with an apologetic smile.

“I’m terribly sorry I haven’t answered your calls. I’m afraid I haven’t been myself lately.” He bowed his head. “But I’m glad you came.”

“Of course, dear, Kouryuu said someone vandalized your business, what else would I do?” Koumyou took and squeezed Hakkai’s hands. “I’m merely glad to see you hale and hearty.” Gojyo noticed Koumyou’s fingers finding the bandages under Hakkai’s sleeves, and barely caught the grimace he flinched back at the discovery. “Have you taken care of yourself, dear?”

“It’s been difficult, but Gojyo has helped me get back on track.” Hakkai slid his hands from Koumyou’s grip and rested one faintly quaking palm on Gojyo’s shoulder. “I’d like to say we’ve worked out all of our issues, but I’d be lying.”

“Yeah,” Gojyo agreed, remembering something and letting his chin fall. “Uh, we’ve both got stuff to work out. Uh, Mister Koumyou, you were asking me questions I didn’t wanna answer before, or didn’t know how to. If you’ll give me a chance, I’d like to try to think it out with you again.”

Koumyou’s expression lightened. “Gojyo, I’m touched! And yes, certainly! All you need is the will to change and learn.” He gave his arm a hearty pat. “Your usual appointment time is still open.”

“Ah,” Hakkai interjected. “And do you have any other appointment slots available? I was hoping to have a chance to speak with you on occasion as well, and perhaps both Gojyo and I could speak with you together…”

“As a couple?” Gojyo frowned, and Hakkai quickly turned to him.

“If you object, of course, we don’t have to, but–”

“No, no.” Gojyo shook his head and slid a hand up to his shoulder. “No, it sounds like a great idea. I know the two of us got work to do, and maybe having someone who knows what they’re doing will help us with that.”

“That’s the spirit!” Koumyou pumped a fist with cheer. “Yes, of course, yes.” He rested his hands on each of their shoulders, contently ignoring the way Toudai chuckled and shook his head behind him. “I want you two to succeed. I’ll do everything I can to help you – though, er, Gojyo, do brace yourself.”

Koumyou suddenly stepped back, and before Gojyo could ask why, someone grabbed him from behind, tackling him out of Hakkai’s grip. Before Gojyo could even shout a protest, someone was crushing him in a bear hug.

“You idiot,” Jien was half-growling, half-crying into his ear. “You stupid idiot. Why do you listen to me? I’m sorry, dammit!”

Gojyo twisted enough to see that it was Jien hugging him as if he were a balloon about to float away if released, with Kougaiji escorting Yaone behind him, both obviously waiting their turn. Gojyo groaned and tried to swing at Jien’s head. “Let go, asshole!”

Jien caught his arm and pushed it into the hug. “Not until I’m done!” He forced Gojyo to turn and look at him – at the tears in his eyes. “I didn’t mean it, okay? I hate that we argue like this, and I know it’s 'cause – 'cause I did wrong, but… I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I’m not looking down on you 'cause of  _that_.” Jien stomped on one of the fliers still on the ground. “I hate that you felt like you had to do that, and it’s my fault, and I’m sorry!”

Gojyo wasn’t sure what to say, and from Jien’s frantic expression, nor was he. “What are you actually tryin’ to say?”

“I’m sorry I gave you grief 'cause I found out about you doin’ that.” Jien gripped him tight. “I just, I reacted without thinking, 'cause I got so mad that you treated yourself that low, did that, but then I thought and realized…” He trailed off, then swallowed thickly. “I wasn’t doin’ a good job raising you. I’m wasn’t ready to raise you when I did get you back, and I made a lot of mistakes and I know that’s why we kept falling out. You were a kid.”

Gojyo frowned. “I should'a known better, too, y'know.” He broke eye contact. “I’m sorry I’m an embarrassment.”

Jien pinched his ear. “You ain’t. I don’t want you to think that. I love you no matter what.” He finally let go of Gojyo, but crossed his arms tight, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “I guess I still don’t know how to be your brother, after everything kinda got skewed.”

Gojyo glanced to Koumyou, then smiled back at Jien. “We can work on it. I know I gotta work on me, anyway.”

“I can only promise to try.” With that, Jien laid a heavy arm around Gojyo’s shoulder and bumped his forehead against his. Gojyo broke away after a second to turn around to Kougaiji and Yaone (receiving sympathy from Kougaiji about the vandalism, and Gojyo hunched in embarrassment and mumbled thanks then quickly turned to inquire to Yaone about 'the little olive’), and Jien faced Hakkai. “I’m glad you came around, too. He’s a good kid. He deserves a good guy.”

“He does, but unfortunately, he chose me.” Hakkai smiled wryly, lacing his fingers in front of him. “I promise, if nothing else, to take good care of him.”

“Now, now,” Koumyou laughed, and Hakkai spun about as if he’d forgotten he was there in the first place. “I think we can all set the self-flagellation aside for a bit; we’re not monks over here! Nobody’s perfect!” He beamed, and held up a box of garbage bags. “I think if we all pitch in, we can get things cleaned up straightaway!”

“Great,” a barely familiar, flat voice added, just as Nataku popped up from behind Koumyou and seemingly out of nowhere. Gojyo jumped a foot as the kid, already holding an armful of the pictures, stared flatly at him, before turning his eyes around between Sanzo, Goku, and Hakkai. “Let’s just clean the mess up before anyone else has to see this.”

For Gojyo, Sanzo, Hakkai, and Goku, it was too strange to see every friend and family member they had unite in the same place, Toudai sitting with Yaone outside of the bakery and tying off garbage bags, Goku chattering with Nataku and Dokugakuji as they scraped pages out of the gutters (as Sanzo gave Nataku wide berth), Sanzo and Koumyou working in tandem to check over all of the lawns between the bakery and garage and diplomatically (or bluntly, depending on which was speaking) explaining to the owners and workers at neighboring businesses that were arriving now, Sharak, with Hassan at her side, being surprisingly friendly with Kougaiji, and Gojyo and Hakkai together taking up the last of the pages that had been left in hopes of humiliating them one last time. It was a tangled web they’d woven, but altogether, it felt complete.

“If nothing else,” Hakkai said as he crumpled a few pictures in his hands, and from the shift on his smile, Gojyo already knew he was teasing him, “I don’t think anything else can surprise me.”

“I dunno, I was surprised.” Gojyo crossed his arms as he waited for Hakkai to stuff the pages into the trashbag. He motioned across the street, where all their friends worked at the cleanup. “We got good folks behind us. We got some rotten stuff behind us too, but we got plenty of good people.” Hakkai nodded with agreement.

“Behind us, before us, beside us.” He nudged Gojyo’s ribs with his elbow, and Gojyo grinned and grabbed him by the waist.

“Always, babe.” He pushed the trash bag from Hakkai’s hand and was about to tip him over into a dip, when there was an uncomfortable cough from nearby.

“Golly,” someone said, and both Hakkai and Gojyo looked to see Hazel with Gat at his side, observing with a bit of a sparkle in his eye. “I do hope I’m not interruptin’ anythin’ important, though I do regret missin’ the volunteer cleanup.”

“You, is it?” Gojyo released Hakkai carefully, cast a curious frown at Gat, then focused on Hazel and crossed his arms. “I know you. You’re that kid from Goku’s college, the one crushing on me at the Y.”

“Oh, dear, is that what'cha thought of me?” Hazel cocked his head. “I admit, you're an attractive fella, but that wasn’t why I was watchin’ you.”

Gojyo noticed Goku and Sanzo joining them out of the corner of his eye, and Koumyou close behind. Gojyo knew this was why they’d been called out this early in the first place, and furrowed his brow. “Well, if you weren’t checkin’ out my ass, why were you staring?”

“I was asked to observe you by my philosophy professor, Professor Nii Jianyi.” Hakkai gasped into his palm, and Gojyo felt his anger wake up again as Hazel broke eye contact. “Though, really, 'asked’ wasn’t the right word. I was kind of, er–”

“Blackmailed,” Gat muttered. Gojyo had been working up a fiery retort, but it got snuffed at that. Gat nudged Hazel’s back. “Tell him.”

“I suppose I have to.” Hazel put on his usual smile, but it was strained. “I was raised by a priest, and he set up a trust fund to put me through college. It was under the supervision of the sisters from his order until I graduated college, but I had free access. Trouble was, the sisters didn’t know I was gay, and if they did, well, gosh, they’d just cut me off cold 'til I wasn’t gay anymore. The Prof found out my situation, and that I was livin’ with Gat here.”

At this, Gat squinted at Hazel a little. “You were covering your friends at Starbucks and bragging.”

Hazel whipped around on him. “When y'say it like that, I sound like a right jackass.” Gat raised an eyebrow and said nothing, and Hazel huffed in disgust and turned back to Gojyo, Hakkai, Sanzo, and Goku. “Well, no matter how he found out, he found out. He pretended to be all concerned, sayin’ it wasn’t right for me to be livin’ with an older man. He wanted to tell the sisters. I asked if there was anythin’ I could do to keep him from doin’ that, and, well…” Hazel actually evinced guilt when he looked at Hakkai. “He tol’ me he was worried about you.” Then, he subtly shifted to anger. “And he said he didn’t know what else to do. He actually pretended to care, and stupid me, I believed him.”

“He asked me to keep an eye on you and your new beau. I hung around, saw what I could, and reported everything back to him.” Hazel clearly couldn’t bring himself to look at them, head hung. He couldn’t see Hakkai, clearly violated and caught between anger and upset, or Gojyo, taking and squeezing his hand tight. “I was the one who caught Gojyo charging at that blond fella, and gave him the pictures.”

“You…” Hakkai spoke first, his expression suddenly snapping to a vicious, sharp version of his usual smile. “I certainly hope you at least got your money’s worth for violating our privacy and giving an abusive former lover of mine material he could use to manipulate me.”

“I did,” Hazel muttered. “The moment he was done with me, he told me that he was still 'concerned’ about my living situation and contacted the sisters. I’m cut off on funds. The only thing I got goin’ for me anymore is Gat here.“ He held his hands out. "Mea culpa. I messed up, and I know it hurt all of y'all, and for that, I’m more sorry than you can imagine.”

“Sorry ain’t gonna cut it, kid.” Gojyo was about to step forward, when Hazel whipped his head up.

“That’s 'cause I ain’t done.” He held up his phone. “Misters Sanzo and Goku there have heard, but I want y'all to listen to this.”

He played a recorded message from Nii, one wherein Nii declared that the “arrangement was over” and that he’d told Hazel’s “sisters” about his living arrangement. Gojyo pursed his lips as the message ended. “Yeah, you told us that.”

“And you have a recording of it.” Hakkai had already done the math. “That’s clear-cut evidence of blackmail.”

Gojyo gaped. “Oh. That’s a crime, ain’t it?”

“A pretty nasty one.” Hazel nodded. “And if I understand right, he wronged you too by tryin’ to get back together with ya on false pretenses.” Hakkai shivered and took Gojyo’s hand again.

“I never even considered charging him…”

“You don’t have to, babe.” Gojyo kept his hand squeezed tight in one of his, but rubbed the other up and down Hakkai’s spine. “If you don’t wanna go to the cops about what he did, nobody’s gonna make ya.”

“I’ll have no evidence that the two of us were even intimate, or why. It’ll be my word against his.”

“No, no,” Hazel interjected. “I can testify to giving him the photos.”

Sanzo cleared his throat. “And I have the photograph he took of you, and will testify that he sent it to me. Oh, and maybe we should get him on distribution of revenge porn, since both Sharak and Gojyo can also testify that he did that – or is that not a crime in California yet?”

“I can Google it,” Goku offered, already getting his phone out.

“If ain’t goin’ away long enough for blackmail, we could really nail him with that.” Hazel looked smug and confident again. Gojyo hated that, and with a touch of his hand, he urged Hakkai to focus on him and look him in the face.

“It’s your choice, babe, and I’ll stand by you no matter what you do.”

Hakkai furrowed his brow, but he squeezed Gojyo’s hands. “I… I’ll do it. Just know that if I do, there will be no going back. I won’t recant. I’ll take it all the way.”

“And I’ll be with you the whole way.” Gojyo kept his hand laced in Hakkai’s, then glanced back to Sanzo. “You cool with us sending your brother to jail?”

Sanzo cocked an eyebrow. “No, I’d rather help you bury the body.” He let himself smirk lazily. “But sending him to jail could be interesting, if nothing else.”

“Oh man,” Goku squealed into his palm from behind Sanzo, gazing eagerly at his phone screen. “He’s gonna be in jail 'til he’s old and gray! And he’s already old! So he’s gonna be really old and gray!”

“That’s the spirit!” Hazel grinned, then grabbed Hakkai’s wrist. “Come on, you an’ me. We can call the non-emergency line, to start, and probably go down to the station from there.”

Hakkai gingerly tugged his arm from Hazel’s grip, but stepped forward. “Yes, I’m ready. Nii has tangled my life long enough. I’m eager to make a mess of his.”

“Want me to come with, babe?” Gojyo offered an arm, but Hakkai shook his head.

“They’ll be talking to me for ages and ages. I’ll text you if I need your support, but can you leave this to me?” The smile he wore for Gojyo was exceptionally hopeful. “I feel strong enough and want to prove that I can.”

“Hey, no problem.” Gojyo kissed his cheek, making sure to brush Hakkai’s jaw with his stubble as he pulled away so he could feel him there that little bit longer. “I’ll have an ear open for you, and I’m here if you need me, but I trust you.”

“And I, you.” Hakkai kissed his nose, then pivoted back to Hazel. “Mr. Grouse, let’s find somewhere private to handle this.”

“Anythin’ ya say.” Hazel patted Gat’s arm and tilted a quick smile up towards him, before departing with Hakkai a step behind. Gojyo turned around to the others.

“We still got clean-up to do, don’t we? What the hell are we standing around for? We gotta get ourselves back in business!”

And with that, they fanned out again to set everything right and get back to life the way it was supposed to be.

* * *

Toudai and Koumyou had invited everyone over for dinner and game night, but Nataku had to go to class, Gat had his other job, and Kougaiji and Jien had to accommodate Yaone, who’d been tired and worried that her stomach wouldn’t be able to handle anything too fancy. “Jien was telling me,” Gojyo told Goku, as he showed him how to peel and chop onions the way Hakkai had taught him, “that even though she’s not sick all the time, she still gets a funny tummy with heavy foods or stuff that’s really flavorful. She’s basically stuck on PBJs, mashed potatoes and white rice, steamed veggies, and chicken with, like, no seasoning.”

Goku scrunched his nose. “That’s the worst.”

“Yeah, be glad you ain’t havin’ kids, monkeybrains.” Gojyo rolled his eyes. “For her, it’s worth it, 'cause they want that little family deal. They want their kid chasin’ 'em around and growing up and stuff.” He grinned and scraped his chunks of onion, not exactly even but still pretty well chopped, into a bowl, then corrected Goku’s grip on the knife. “Watch the tip.”

Goku muttered a, “that’s what Hakkai said,” dodged the play-slap Gojyo launched in retort, then said, “I get it, though.”

“Yeah, plus Kou and Jien are spoiling her.” Gojyo grinned with glee. “He told me we might need to replace Lirin soon, 'cause they’re thinkin’ of insisting Yaone take leave early and rest, 'cause it’s hard on her, y'know? And Lirin’s already said she’ll fill in for Yaone as receptionist, and they’ll hire someone else to do the books. Plus, Jien tells me Kou’s goin’ nuts getting the house ready. I mean, knocking down walls, breathin’ fire at the renovators kinda nuts. They decided to make the baby’s room into an en-suite to the master, and…”

“Boys,” Toudai interrupted curtly from the stove. “Less talking, more chopping if you want to eat tonight.”

“Oh, sure.”

“Sorry!” Gojyo and Goku gritted back down on their task, but not before Gojyo chanced to look back at the kitchen table. Sanzo and Koumyou were together at Sanzo’s laptop computer, Sanzo begrudgingly scooted aside to let Koumyou see, as he browsed the names of local realtors so Koumyou could tell him about each of them (since he apparently knew all of them), and Hakkai had his glasses off, his eyes shut, and his head pillowed on his arms with his phone on the table in front of him.

He’d come back from the police station exhausted, likely wrung out after a few hours of questioning and likely being prodded at (Gojyo hoped they kept it to his injuries and not trying to find evidence of the act itself ten days later), and probably still tired from the accumulated effects of depression and anxiety that had ground him down to the state Gojyo had found him in the day before. Gojyo was happy to fill in for him on helping with the prep work, even though he was slow by comparison… or any standards, really. (At least he wasn’t as bad as Goku.) What he was good at was keeping the conversation miles away from the events of the day, or anything that might rouse Hakkai from his rest.

“Oh, um. That reminds me.” Goku nudged Gojyo’s side with his elbow. “I was gonna tell ya – promise – but, um, I might need to be at the desk a little while. Soon.”

“Oh? What’s up?” Gojyo raised an eyebrow, and Goku quickly looked away.

“Um, ’m having surgery.”

“No shit?” Gojyo raised both eyebrows. “Uh, what kind?” Goku glanced up to Gojyo’s face, then back down, then patted his chest.

“These are coming off.”

“Oh – oh, fuck, you mean – oh.” Gojyo gripped the knife tight, then grinned. “Well, shit, kid, why didn’t you just say so?” He was still having a little trouble recalculating Goku’s status, because he could still only see Goku as a guy. That was probably for the best in the long run, but he loved the kid like a brother and that meant he was going to need to do some serious Googling to figure out how to treat him right. Hakkai probably knew, and they could have a good long talk about it later. Goku, for his part, just pinked when Gojyo nudged him.

“Well, um, I’ve been saving a while, and I finally got the money together. With a little help, and all.” He grinned to himself, still looking down at the potatoes on the board. “Mr. Koumyou was all, 'do it for your birthday!’ but I thought about it and realized I’m gonna have like three weeks of classes left after that and recovery’s gonna be a thing, so I think I’ll get the consult soon but schedule it for after graduation.”

“Smart kid, good on ya.” Gojyo scraped the last chunks of onion off of his knife and turned to Toudai. “Okay, boss, four onions, like you said!”

“Give them here,” Toudai said without turning from the meat on his board. Gojyo set the bowl down at his side.

“On your left.”

Toudai looked into the bowl, and did a double-take. “Good grief, boys, who taught you to chop?”

“Uh.” Gojyo glanced surreptitiously to Hakkai, Goku just shrugged, and Toudai clicked his tongue.

“Hakkai’s a great cook, but he’s obviously lenient on you as a teacher. Goku, all you have to do is ask and I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

“Aw, I get by alright!”

Toudai wagged a finger at him. “Alright isn’t 'good.’ You young men need some real life skills!” Toudai flipped his focus to Gojyo again. “Wouldn’t it be nice to give Hakkai nights off?”

“Yeah.” Gojyo scratched the back of his head, as Toudai returned his attention to the pan. “Actually,” he stood close and turned their conversation to a whisper, “I’d like to do something else for him, too. Goku, shoo, me an’ Mr. Toudai gotta talk.”

Goku shrugged, but trotted away to the table as Gojyo started a conversation with Toudai in an excited whisper. He tapped Hakkai on the arm, very gently. “Hey, 'Kai, you feelin’ okay?”

Hakkai grimaced into his sleeves. “Mm. Five more minutes.”

“Leave him be.” Sanzo tugged the hem of Goku’s shirt, and Goku patted Hakkai’s arm with a little affection before joining Sanzo and Koumyou. They had moved on to looking at housing listings, and Goku grinned at the pictures of little houses that populated the screen.

“You don’t want more than this?” Koumyou pursed his lips, and Sanzo scoffed.

“Do I need more? Bedroom, kitchen, den, bath and a half.”

“So Spartan, but then, you’ve never been extravagant. What about an office?”

Sanzo shrugged and pointed at one of the listings. “Second bedroom. I can make that into an office or library.”

Goku cocked his head, but leaned over Sanzo and Koumyou’s shoulders. “Hey, what about Nataku? Can he live with us, at least 'til he’s got a job and all?” Sanzo tensed, and Goku twisted around to look at him. “I know you’re still mad 'cause he tried to beat you up, but he’s my best friend, we’re like brothers. I don’t wanna leave him in the lurch.”

Sanzo pursed his lips, then sighed and clicked the bedroom option and changed it from “1” to “3.” “His room has to be as far away from ours as possible. Preferably in a basement.”

“He likes cool places.” Goku cozied himself between Sanzo and Koumyou, one elbow on each of their shoulders, and settled in to browse, as Koumyou chuckled.

“It can be an in-law suite someday after he’s moved out.”

“Dad.” Sanzo put warning in his tones, but Koumyou shrugged.

“I may not want to live alone, dear; be kind to an old man, won’t you?” Sanzo groused something about how Koumyou wasn’t  _that_  old, but Koumyou ignored him and pointed at one of the images. “I know this area. The street is secluded, quiet, and because it’s a little out of the way, it’s a little more affordable.”

Sanzo remained impassive. “Mm.”

Goku giggled, because he knew that meant Sanzo liked it. “It’s a cute house.”

Sanzo clicked on it, then scrolled through a few pictures of the interior. “We can visit it.”

“Yes, you should!” Koumyou patted Sanzo on the back. “You should visit a few! After all, this is going to be your nest, Kouryuu. It doesn’t matter what it is, only that you like it and that it’s your decision. Just like the person you choose to nest with.”

“Mm.” Sanzo didn’t look at him, and Goku couldn’t help but giggle a little.

“It’s true. You really are super easy to read.”

Sanzo reached back and tweaked Goku’s ear, then whispered into it: “Don’t go saying that where Gojyo can hear you.”

Goku laughed aloud that time, but just then, through a lull in Toudai and Gojyo’s conversation and the pause between breaths, Hakkai’s phone rang. Everyone turned as Hakkai heaved a sigh and lifted his head from his arms to pick his phone up. He put his glasses back on, read the screen, and rose. “Pardon me, I really should take this.”

Every eye in the room turned to Hakkai as he strode from the kitchen and into the dark shop. Hakkai faced the front door, past all of the antique mirrors and art pieces, took a breath, and answered. “I thought you had finally deigned to leave me alone. Tell me why I shouldn’t hang up on you.”

“Hakkai,” Nii murmured back, all musk and honey down the line, “after all we’ve been through together.”

Hakkai said nothing. It wasn’t a question, he didn’t have to answer. He didn’t owe Nii that, nor anything.

“All these charges, Hakkai – you can’t possibly mean all this.”

“Is this really how you’re choosing to use your phone call, Nii?” Hakkai crossed his arms and held the phone in the crook of his neck and shoulder. “I’d suggest hiring a lawyer.”

“Hakkai.” He put a wealth of emotion into the word, saying his name as if Hakkai might believe he meant something to Nii. “It was just a game, you know it, this was how we played. We took a little pride in getting our teeth into one another.”

“You did, Nii. I only ever bit back. Our game ended when we ended our relationship, and don’t bother denying to me that we weren’t apart, or that we had rekindled our relationship. You detest liars.”

Nii was quiet. Hakkai inhaled slowly, looking down the street, down the road, towards the distant stars. “Review the paperwork that has been provided to you. You will find a temporary restraining order, which you have violated and which I intend to make permanent. Do not contact me again. I am leaving you in my past. I am leaving you exactly where you belong.” He caught his own reflection in one of the antique mirrors, and the image of Gojyo’s silhouette behind him, waiting for him. “Call it muichimotsu. I’ve got a bright future, one without you in it.” Hakkai hung up before Nii could respond, uninterested in anything he might say. He turned back towards Gojyo, where he waited propped against the doorframe, pretending poorly that he hadn’t been listening with utter feigned nonchalance.

“Y'know,” he said in a voice meant only for the two of them, “you probably shouldn’t’ve taken that.”

“No, perhaps not,” Hakkai agreed, smiling blithely nonetheless. “But in a way, I wanted to. Perhaps there’s still a little of that vindictiveness that he so enjoyed in me that wanted the last laugh. However, outside of prosecuting him to the fullest extent of the law, that was the last laugh.”

“Yeah?” Gojyo quirked an eyebrow, and Hakkai did laugh.

“Goodness, don’t pull roguish faces at me. You’re just too sexy like that.”

Hakkai and Gojyo ignored Sanzo’s retort of “gross,” as Gojyo instead chuckled and rubbed his nose to Hakkai’s. “All I’m saying is, send him to jail, but leave him behind. Let go. You got so much better stuff ahead of you.”

“I know.” Hakkai kissed Gojyo on the nose, just the way Gojyo liked to do to him. “I think I see a lovely dinner with many of the people I care about in my immediate future, followed by several rounds of getting our hindquarters handed to us in mah jongg. Shall we?”

“Sounds fantastic, babe. I think we shall.”

Gojyo took his hand and squeezed it as they joined the others. While none of them had forgotten what was behind them, or the rocky path that lay ahead, as Gojyo, Hakkai, Goku, and Sanzo joined one another for a shared meal and a shared night, each of them stood with trust in themselves and each other that they could make it through together.

No matter what that future was, they were going to make it through the wonderful mess that was life, family, work, friends, and love together.


	48. Epilogue: We've Got Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And at the end of it all, we've got a happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to believe we're here, but here we are.
> 
> First off, special thanks to BaronVonRiktenstein for allowing me permission to write this story based off of their original idea! I had no idea it would evolve into this, but it's been such an enjoyable ride. I'm grateful she was willing to let me play with her concept. 
> 
> I want to thank everyone who has read this story and supported me up until now. Every time I got a comment, the rambling ones, the ones who SAW WHAT I DID THERE and got excited, even if it was nothing but an emoji indicating squealing or happiness, every time someone expressed their love for this story (even when it wasn't directly to me), every like and reblog on Tumblr, all of your feedback reassured me and helped me keep going. I get discouraged with things far too easily, and those of you who encouraged me helped keep me strong or pushed me out of frustration.
> 
> Thanks as well to everyone who helped me with editing chapters or with feedback and thinking through some of the plot, especially LePetitErik for beta reading through some of the hardest stuff!
> 
> I really hope you enjoy the conclusion. I won't say the book is shut forever, because if I ever get the inspiration to write fluff in this universe I absolutely will, but our story ends here.
> 
> I hope you get everything you want out of this conclusion.

**Epilogue: We've Got Everything**

Hakkai pulled the lever under his dash and opened the hood of his car. The familiar scent of oil and gas greeted him, though Hakkai missed the faint whiff of cologne that was usually mixed in with it. He had come to appreciate the smell of an engine on Gojyo, but without the man himself, it wasn't nearly as interesting.

"Still, best handle this one without him." He smiled to himself as he looked over the heart of his car. Gojyo had told him little bits and pieces over shared lunches in the garage, but he knew what his current malady was, and it was so simple he wouldn't have blamed Gojyo for laughing if he didn't know how to fix it himself. "After all," Hakkai remarked to himself as he unscrewed one of the caps, "I've been dating a mechanic for over a year now."

Spring had seen the inside of courtrooms, but a mercifully quick trial that resulted in part of Hakkai's past being locked away for a good, long time. He had distracted himself from that by pitching himself into his work and the redecoration of his living room, refreshing his skills with his greatest talent and refreshing his home from a place of violation to a place where he was rebuilding himself.

Summer saw the arrival of a tiny black-haired girl who had Jien and Gojyo's nose from the day she was born, and who now had Gojyo's rapt attention every time she appeared before him. Hakkai should have been jealous, really, but when it came to a girl as cute as Olivia, Hakkai couldn't at all mind how much Gojyo still loved the ladies. Especially because whenever Gojyo was holding Olivia or playing with her, he would make sure to give Hakkai a good view. He also would tell her, "See Uncle Hakkai there? You wanna say hi to Uncle Hakkai?" Those words always felt good on his heart and soul.

Autumn was a blur when Toudai fell gravely ill with a nasty bout of pneumonia. There had been a very real fear that he wouldn't recover. Sanzo had been inconsolable, in his usual terse way, but Goku had guided him through and stood by him through every hour Sanzo spent at his Papa's side. It was one of those countless hours that resulted in a long conversation between the pair of them that further resulted in a 9 a.m. phone call to Hakkai: "Be here in two hours. I want my Pop to see me get married." Sanzo and Goku had tied the knot in the hospital chapel, with Toudai in a wheelchair and on a breathing machine, but alert and awake to watch, Koumyou holding his hand, a very friendly mother nun, Goku's roommate Nataku, Hakkai, and Gojyo as witnesses, and nobody else. It was likely all Sanzo would have ever wanted anyway. That Toudai made a full recovery two weeks later and was exactly as cantankerous and grouchy as ever, if not incredibly proud and doting on his son-in-law, made no difference at all.

Hakkai's birthday had come and gone while Toudai was ill, but to his surprise, Gojyo kept the celebration low-key: a romantic dinner and a night at the opera in a nearby city, and a present of an IOU for a vacation, anywhere Hakkai wanted to go, after Christmas. Gojyo always wanted to spoil him, Hakkai knew for certain, but he really never wanted for anything but more time with Gojyo. Gojyo had given him that.

Gojyo really did give him so much. Hakkai enjoyed every chance he had to give back. With Gojyo's birthday coming up again, he'd already begun to brainstorm just how to top him, in as many senses as he could imagine.

For now, though, he would stick with surprising him.

"Imagine that. You, playing grease-monkey?" Sanzo scoffed from behind him, and Hakkai smiled to himself without looking up from what he was doing and or rolling his eyes.

"Gojyo's giving my car an oil change tomorrow." He glanced back to see Sanzo and Goku on the curb, Goku rocking on his heels and grinning, Sanzo with his arms crossed. "I wanted to refill my wiper fluid, since it was completely empty and I'm certain he'd laugh at me if I left it that way."

"He wouldn't laugh _at_ you!" Goku snickered into his palm. "Just, y'know. To me and the guys. He'd probably say how cute it was that you forgot."

"I'd really rather him not call me _cute_ , thank you." Hakkai faced Goku and Sanzo and put his hands on his hips. Sanzo, ever the same scowl in place though he'd taken to dressing a little more casually during the day, stood watching him with one arm shamelessly laid around Goku's shoulder, still trying to look unimpressed.

"You got gunk on your hands."

"It comes off." Hakkai dusted his fingers. "Were you two leaving for the day?"

"Yeah, Gat's closing up with Ensei and Shouei." Goku shrugged a little, and it took Hakkai a moment before recalling – Gojyo's apprentices. Likely new mechanics, if they proved themselves before graduation. He'd met them, and they seemed nice enough. Hakkai was mostly happy that Gojyo had more help now. Five mechanics running three bays meant there was less for Gojyo to do, and he wouldn't feel compelled to overwork. Goku, for his part, seemed satisfied with his lot too. "But I'm all set, Gojyo said he was real impressed with my work today, and now me and Sanzo were goin' to his folks' place for the night!"

“Ah, that's good!” Hakkai tried to clean his hands off of each other, but only succeeded in smearing the mess around. “Has Gojyo left yet?”

“He left early.” Goku grinned a little broader, almost as if he didn't mean to. “Said he had something important to take care of.”

“Did he?” Hakkai cocked his head. “He didn't mention anything to me.”

“And Goku wasn't supposed to,” Sanzo muttered into Goku's hair and the edge of Hakkai's hearing, but he spoke aloud. “You'll have to ask him.” He then set his hands on his hips. “You forgot something, too.”

“Did I?” Hakkai frowned at Sanzo, then noticed a Mille-Feuille and Flowers box tucked in his hand. “Oh, dear, I did!” Hakkai hurried from the street to take it. Sanzo lifted it up over his head.

“Is this going on the menu? You sure as hell wasted enough time and materials on it.”

“Really, Sanzo.” Hakkai crossed his arms. He could reach the box, but he didn't want to shake its contents. “You exaggerate. I sold all of my experiments as daily specials, none of it was really _wasted_.”

“'Taste this, taste this,'” Sanzo griped back. “Every other day, calling me and Goku in to eat something sweet. I don't even like sweets, and I have actual work to do.”

Goku lightly slapped Sanzo's arm. “That wasn't a waste of time!” He jumped and grabbed the box from Sanzo and gingerly passed it to Hakkai. “We got to eat a bunch of tasty food!” Sanzo sneered, but Goku stuck his tongue out at him as Hakkai closed both hands around the box and cradled it to his chest. “It's time for Gojyo to get to eat this, y'know, like he doesn't get to eat Hakkai's cooking every day.” Then, he glanced back to Hakkai, grinning with mischief. “Excited?”

“Terribly so. Too excited to wait another moment, quite frankly.” Hakkai laughed a little, then eased back a step. “Enjoy your evening.”

“You too!” Goku bounded back to Sanzo's side, as Sanzo eyed Hakkai with either suspicion or caution.

“Your temperament belies how much you rush things.” He sniffed. “Let us know how it goes over.” He hooked Goku's arm in his, and as Hakkai settled into the driver's seat and adjusted his mirrors, he glimpsed Sanzo leaning down to kiss Goku on the cheek as they walked to his car.

His hands were still a little dirty, but he knew Sanzo's and Goku's were, too. They still seemed perfectly happy despite everything they'd all gone through, as if time could wear it all away. It couldn't; that past would always exist, would always be a part of his present and future. He could still remember it, every moment, all the ache and confusion, the stress, the strain, the pain. Then, he'd remember that Gojyo was beside him still, and had remained with him through it all. His love was a safety net under the tightrope that was everyday life.

He tested his windshield wipers, then put his car into drive, smooth and easy. Gojyo kept his car in perfect condition, not to mention keeping him steady through so much else, and Hakkai knew he was in good hands no matter what came his way. It was merely his duty to do his part to hold those hands right back.

* * *

“Gojyo, I'm home!” Hakkai's voice rang through the house like a chime, and Gojyo felt it reverberate in the chambers of his heart. He shook his hair off and dusted the flour off of his hands, and peered out of the kitchen to see Hakkai hanging his jacket on the rack next to his own weather-beaten leather coat. He grinned to himself, and hurriedly turned to hide his work on the counter behind him. “Ah, my, something smells delightful. Did you bring home a new candle?”

“You mean you don't have enough nice-smellin' candles?” Gojyo chuckled and shook his head, then pivoted around to wash his hands. “I think it feels like home enough without more pretty-smelling fire, y'know?”

Gojyo had moved in the day after he and Hakkai had gotten back together for good, but when he opened the door, he didn't see home. He saw boxes scattered all over the floor, labeled with the names of people for those boxes to be passed off to. He saw Hakkai's entire life packed to be thrown away, and poor Ryuu yowling and winding around Gojyo's legs. Hakkai tutted Ryuu and scooped him into his arms. “Oh dear,” he'd said, “I did come home and feed him yesterday, but--”

“Hakkai.” Gojyo had turned and grabbed both of his forearms. “Were you goin' somewhere?” Hakkai fell silent at this, his hold on Ryuu subtly tightening. That was enough of an answer for Gojyo. “Look, I'm not gonna get mad, but you gotta promise me you ain't goin' nowhere. You're gonna stay with me, right? I mean, if you don't want me, I'll go, but you gotta stay.”

Hakkai swallowed thickly. “I'm ... staying. Of course I am.” He turned and glanced around the dim room, subtly shivering. “I could use a change of scenery, but there's nowhere I'd rather be than here with you.”

The scenery had changed. Hakkai's cool den had been stripped down and renovated, the old white furniture and cool colors replaced. Gojyo didn't know much about design, but he knew what colors made him feel at home, and Hakkai, given a palette, painted a picture of home. The carpet had been pulled up and replaced with hardwood that wouldn't hold cat fur or scrapes, a modern brown suede seating set with cushy red throw pillows replaced the old furniture, and their glass-topped coffee table had storage shelves for their cards, their board games, and the mah jongg set Koumyou had given Hakkai for his birthday. Gojyo's quilt was hung on the wall, next to photographs of the two of them had taken of themselves here and there: their long weekend in San Francisco, a trip to the Washington coast, a bus tour of Sacramento when they'd driven down with Goku and Sanzo last June. Gojyo was already excited to buy tickets for the vacation he'd promised Hakkai, because he wanted more pictures to hang on their wall. Every souvenir they picked up, every photo on the wall, every ticket stub Gojyo stashed in his wallet, they were reminders that he got to come home with Hakkai again and be reminded that this was home. That every time he came home, it was here, to Hakkai, the place they'd made together. 

This was the place where they shared meals and laughter, long conversations about nothing at all, hours of one stroking the other's hair or one rubbing the other's feet, where they spent quiet content hours in one another's company, this was their place where they belonged. Even if they had their little squabbles over overflowing ashtrays, beer cans and bottles in the trash rather than the recycling, clothes not put in the laundry, nagging or griping or excessive neat-freakishness, that just made their home the place where they kissed and made up; still home. Gojyo hadn't considered his old apartment home, nor Jien's house, nor the group home or the flat he'd shared with Jien and his mother, nor that run-down old trailer in the middle of the desert plains that he still remembered in the corner of his memory when he squeezed his eyes shut tight. This quiet street, this peaceful house, this was his place. The right place.

This was where he was supposed to be.

“Come on, I'm in here!” Gojyo yanked the tie from his ponytail, shaking his hair loose down past his shoulders to spill down his back – where it belonged again, at last! – and leaned over the island counter just to be that inch or two closer to Hakkai. He had to press his hands to the cool marble to keep his palms from sweating. Hakkai peered in first, then entered, eyebrows raised and a small box in hand.

“My, aren't we eager tonight?" He smiled with clear amusement. "I can only hope you're that happy to see me.” Hakkai set the box down and circled the island to kiss Gojyo hello.

“I am, babe.” Gojyo slid his hand down to Hakkai's, then found a streak of grease running down his wrist. “Ah, was someone pregaming his car check-up tomorrow?” He pretended to look mad, but he couldn't push down a smirk. Hakkai, too, smiled a little and reached for Gojyo's face.

“And someone's been cooking.” He ran his thumb over Gojyo's cheek, then showed him the traces of flour on the pad, before turning and washing his hands. “How long have you been home?”

“Heh, can't keep anything from you, eh?” Gojyo winked at him, but took a step back to wipe his hands off on the dishtowel. “I left a few hours early to put together something special for you, babe.” Then, he glanced pointedly at the box beside Hakkai's hand. “Though, it looks like you were trying to surprise me, too. Show me yours and I'll show you mine.”

“Oh, Gojyo.” Hakkai chuckled softly, but picked the box up. “I promised, didn't I?” He traced the front of Gojyo's hair to the fine tips where they landed at his chest. “You kept up your end and I kept up mine.” He held the box in one hand then slipped his fingers into the front, but halted. “Are you ready?”

“Ready whenever.” Gojyo set his hands on his hips, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet and hoping Hakkai wouldn't notice. Hakkai opened the little pink and white box with a flourish, revealing a set of cupcakes, nearly black with dark chocolate and iced with a crimson rosette. Gojyo whistled and picked one up, giving it a sniff. “Oh, man, that's...”

“Extra dark chocolate, filled with a warm cocoa-chili ganache and topped with a chili-cinnamon French buttercream. I steeped the cream for the ganache with a habanero before adding in Dutch process cocoa powder and dark chocolate for a smooth, rich, warm finish, and spiced the buttercream with cinnamon, nutmeg, and cayenne.” Hakkai looked far too proud of himself, especially when Gojyo took a bite. The sweet cinnamon and chili cream was hot and sweet like a candy, but the spice grounded it with just enough earthy flavor to tantalize. The cupcake's crumb was dense and sweet, but not too sweet, warming instead of cloying, and the chocolate burst over his tongue only to be chased by the warm fuzz of heat from the habanero ganache as he found it in the center of the cupcake. There was heat, but never enough to burn, just enough to make his mouth water. Nothing existed like this. This was something completely unique.

He swallowed, licked his lips, and swallowed again. “This is so delicious.” He squeezed Hakkai's hand. “It's hot, and sweet, and warm, and, fuck –” He laughed with embarrassment and tossed his fingers through his hair. “I don't even have words, it's unbelievable!"

“It's indescribable. It's just like you.” Hakkai's eyes glimmered with delight as Gojyo, unable to resist, took another bite. “I don't even think I can sell them. I can't imagine sharing something that is so very _you_ with anyone.”

“M-mm!” Gojyo swallowed and shook his head, licking every crumb off his lips before speaking, “Babe, you gotta sell this, this is a best-seller in the making. Not everyone will like it, but the people who do are gonna fucking love it.”

“Perhaps." Hakkai smiled wryly, all too happy at watching Gojyo enjoy his work. "I'll discuss it with Sanzo, but perhaps I could make it for special orders only.” Hakkai carefully closed the box and set it aside as Gojyo ate the last of his cupcake and cleaned the icing off of every finger. “For now, why don't we save the rest for dessert, and you tell me what you've been up to all afternoon?”

Gojyo had to swallow thickly at that, feeling like his throat had closed. “Jeez, you cut to the chase, huh?” He laughed and dabbed the chocolate from his mouth, then took another step back. His heel shook under him as he landed. “I dunno, why don't we make dinner first? I'm pretty excited about dessert now--”

“Gojyo.” Hakkai had slid his hands to his hips. “You're not doing a very good job at prevaricating.”

Gojyo came up short, only barely stumbling over Hakkai's gold-star vocabulary, and pinched his brow to bear back the nerves. “Guess not, huh?” He sucked in a breath, too nervous to look at Hakkai for a second, then grounded his heels and put on a smile. “Right. Uh. So, you did hold up your end of our little bargain, right? And you blew it out of the park. I knew you would, too.”

“Go on.” Hakkai raised an eyebrow, but Gojyo was reassured that he was still mostly amused.

“Ah. Well.” Gojyo rocked on his heels again. “I... I wanted to do one better for ya, you know? Thinking about you working your butt off to put something together for me, and all I gotta do is keep my hair nice... so, uh, I decided to take cooking lessons from Toudai while you were doing your solo therapy sessions with Koumyou.” He put on a big grin, but Hakkai merely hummed and crossed his arms.

“Why didn't you ask me? I would have--”

“I wanted to surprise you, babe.” Gojyo turned to the refrigerator and grabbed a covered dish. “I wanted to surprise you, to show you I could do special things for you, too.”

“You do plenty, you know.” Hakkai frowned, clearly a little defensive, but studied the covered dish. “What did you have him teach you?”

“Basics.” Gojyo shrugged, and hoped it didn't come off as a shiver. “Knife skills, simple techniques. Measurements. Y'know, the stuff you'd teach a kid who'd never really cooked before.” Gojyo rubbed the back of his head. “I asked him to teach me how to make one thing in particular, though." He smiled through his embarrassment. "He actually got mad at me when I told him what it was, but he whipped me into shape and taught me how to do it. He even called in Sharak to help teach me.”

Hakkai gripped his chest as if it had tightened. “Sharak? You mean you asked to learn how to bake something?”

“Uh. Yeah.” Gojyo flushed a little and tried to ground his heels again. “Cake, actually. A kind of cake. Between the two of them, they got me on track. It took me a few tries, but I finally got it right.” He grinned, and put his hands on the covered dish. “The real trick was figuring out how you did your secret little trick without telling either of them what it was.” He hesitated a second longer. “And, uh, I promise it tastes better than it looks.”

Hakkai's heart was in his throat. Gojyo could tell. “Right. No more suspense.” He uncovered the dish, revealing a slice of mille-feuille, the cream white and fluffy but laid out unevenly, the cake dense and crumbling a little around the edges, and Hakkai could see the honey syrup running a little down the sides. However, more important was the clumsily-written message on top of the cream in a honey-scented royal icing, with an unpracticed hand but sincere simplicity:

“ _Marry me?”_

Hakkai inhaled sharply as he spotted the silver band embedded in the frosting. Gojyo plucked it out, licked the whipped cream off, and dropped down to his knees. “The cake ain't lying, babe, will you?”

Hakkai didn't answer aloud, instead falling down and clasping both hands around Gojyo's. Gojyo smiled patiently as Hakkai shivered, his fingers quaking around Gojyo's. Gojyo was waiting for Hakkai to ask him if he meant it, if he was sure, just so he could remind him of the home they'd made together, of how happy they were together, everything they'd shared. He would beg for an excuse to recount their relationship, their bond, and to tell him he couldn't imagine sharing the rest of his life with anyone else.

Hakkai already knew. He didn't have to.

“Yes, of course,” Hakkai whispered, and released Gojyo's hands so Gojyo could slip the ring on his finger. Gojyo pressed the band to the base of his ring finger, and laced their fingers together. Hakkai shivered and fell against him. “Oh...” His breath stuttered, lungs and heart quaking in his breast through his whole form. “It still hardly seems real...”

“It is. We got something good here, and I want to keep it for the rest of our lives.” Gojyo held Hakkai close and tight, taking in his warmth and love as if he may never have another chance to enjoy what lived between them, and reveling in the knowledge, sure and true, that he would for as long as the both of them lived.

Between the twists and turns of life, of work, of friends, family, and complication, they'd found each other in the middle of it all. Even if it wasn't perfect, even though their union was founded on happenstance, chance, and disaster, and even though life was and always would be a mess, they had everything they wanted in each other.


	49. Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faced with an uncertain future, Sanzo makes some decisions and comes to some conclusions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be a 9/3 special bonus chapter, but it kind of exploded on me into being three times as big as I meant for it to be. I don't feel like waiting for 3/9, so enjoy!

**49: Forever**

The heart rate monitor in Toudai's room beeped steadily and evenly, but at least slowly. If Sanzo had been the kind of man to meditate, he could have timed his breathing to the even chirp, but he wasn't interested in meditating. The only thing Sanzo wanted to do was hold his Pop's hand and squeeze it tight, hoping he would stay asleep, hoping he would stay alive. Toudai's hand quaked in his grip as another shiver wracked him, and Sanzo could only brace himself as Toudai coughed wetly into the oxygen mask. Sanzo squeezed his eyes shut tight and held his hand as tight as he could, as if he could crush the disease Toudai couldn't fight. Toudai's hand was soft and limp in his, and Toudai looked sunken and small in the hospital bed. Sanzo could still so clearly remember when he was a big broad bear who would pretend to roar and chase him through the house, when Toudai could grab him up in his big arms and carry him on his shoulders.

He had known in a way, even then, that those days wouldn't last. He'd known he'd grow up and become too big to be carried, too mature to play, that their relationship would change as they did. He'd just never known how much it would hurt that this day had come so soon, that his big, powerful father would be straining to breathe. That tomorrow, Toudai might not be drawing breath at all.

Sanzo was watching his father's last seconds trickle into the hourglass, and he didn't want to waste a single one of them. Every moment was one he was losing, and Sanzo could only wonder just how much of Toudai he wouldn't have. Even as Toudai's coughing fit ended, as his rattling breath softened and faded back into even silence but for the slow, steady chirp of the heart monitor, Sanzo knew it was only a matter of time.

“Hey, Sanzo.” Sanzo shook himself back to attention when Goku's voice sounded in his ear, but he didn't turn even at the scrape of the other chair beside him or when Goku pushed a warm cup into his hand. “The ladies let me use the Keurig at the nurse's station. Black, the way you like it.”

“Mm.” Sanzo nodded, and lifted the coffee to his mouth. He took one sip and scrunched his nose. “Decaf.” He shot a glare at Goku, who hunched down in the chair.

“Y'gotta sleep some time. I thought...” He sat lower in his chair. “Sorry. You want me to get you another one?”

Sanzo wanted to be much angrier at him, but that pout made it impossible. “It's fine. I think it's mostly placebo at this point, I drink so much the caffeine doesn't make a difference.” He took a long slug of the coffee, then slid his arm around Goku's shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“You're asking me?” Goku chuckled a little, but Sanzo patted his back.

“No binder. Is the swelling down?”

“Oh.” Goku ducked down again. “Yeah, it's been okay.”

“Mm. Good.” Sanzo leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I had thought you weren't wearing it because you weren't wearing it yesterday and haven't gone home.” Goku didn't say anything for a minute, and Sanzo affixed him with a hard look. “You are going to go home and get your compression binder tonight.”

“You're usually my ride. I go where you go.” Goku shrugged, and Sanzo shut his eyes to blink back the ache in that soft little lie. “It's okay. I'll ask Gojyo to go over and grab it for me. I'm sticking with you.” He tucked his arm around Sanzo's waist. “As long as I can be here, I'm gonna stay with you.”

Sanzo had to squeeze his eyes shut again, then looked at Goku, actually taking him in for the first time in a while. Goku was three months out from his surgery and recovering, getting back on his feet and working hard in the garage again, but he still had swelling and needed to wear his binder to held shape his chest right. Sanzo had paced for two hours in the waiting room during the procedure, and had been so happy to leave the Sacramento hospital with a woozy, delirious Goku patting his chest and declaring that he felt light and free. He'd been so happy to take Goku home after two nights of pampering him in the nicest hotel he could afford, and he'd hoped to never see the inside of a hospital waiting room again. He had hoped he was well on his way to enjoying a peaceful life with Goku.

Then, Toudai fell ill two weeks ago. He'd said it was nothing at first, a tickle in his throat, an annoyingly persistent cough. Then, the fever and chills, then the green phlegm, and then Toudai was visiting his doctor at Koumyou's insistence (that Sanzo _heard_ Koumyou break out the “darling” card told him just how serious this had gotten), and all of a sudden Toudai was being kept for overnight observation and declining and before Sanzo knew it he was on a ventilator and straining more to breathe each day, and the infection spread and got worse and worse and worse. He'd been on the verge of coma when the fluid filled his lungs so much it nearly shut his brain down, and Sanzo knew that the next time the disease swelled, it could take him for good.

It was nearly impossible to reconcile his understanding that all things end with the sentiment that Sanzo never wanted to be without either of his fathers. They could be overbearing and annoying and difficult, but they were his fathers. They'd always been there for him, but someday they wouldn't be. Sanzo couldn't even imagine the day he would lose Koumyou.

Then, Goku had to come along and remind him that he was there now to be lost, too.

“You don't have to stay.”

“I wanna.” Goku shrugged again, but leaned into Sanzo's shoulder. “For as long as I can. If you're gonna be here, I wanna be here with you. That's what love is, right?” Goku faced him with a coy little smile, and Sanzo would normally have sneered at him for being maudlin, but somehow, the sentiment was welcome. Goku turned back to Toudai, watching his chest rise and fall shakily, but Sanzo was watching him now. “I knew... I mean, I worried this might happen, but I knew that when it happened, there might be nothing I can do but stand by you. I was okay with that when I decided I wanted to stay with you, and I'm okay with it now.” He rubbed Toudai's hand. “I may not have known him long, but he's been like the Pop I've never had, and I love you both a whole lot so I'm gonna stay right here with you.” He smiled to himself. “I'm okay with this. I was okay with it when I decided to be with you, and I'm kinda committed to it now.”

“Hm.” Sanzo frowned. “Committed.”

“Mhm. Now and forever.” Goku shifted to lean on Sanzo's shoulder, halfway out of the hard little hospital chair and jostling Sanzo's coffee arm. Sanzo noticed him blinking sleepily, and kissed his cheek, then eased him back into his chair.

“You can stay as long as you like, but I need to stretch my legs.” He released Toudai's hand and set it in Goku's. Toudai unconsciously took hold, and Goku squeezed it right back. Sanzo took the blanket Koumyou had been sleeping under and laid it in Goku's lap, then stood, drained his coffee cup, and trudged out.

He was having a lot of trouble thinking about things like now and forever, but something about what Goku said was sticking in his head.

Koumyou had been at the hospital since Toudai had, only going home for brief shower breaks or a change of clothes. However, he spent the hours when Toudai was asleep doing research, looking for treatments that might help him, or trying to get in contact with specialists. That was how Sanzo found him, set up on the hospital's Wi-Fi with his tablet and a bluetooth keyboard, hunched over the table of magazines squinting at the screen. Sanzo yanked one of the chairs over to sit in front of him.

“Any new word, Dad?”

“I'm waiting to hear back from a specialist in Cleveland, but I think it's only just five in the morning there now.” Koumyou somehow still smiled wryly to himself. “Until then, I'm looking into possible fungal infections associated with pneumonia that are common in individuals with your father's condition and that can exacerbate it, so that I can nudge his doctors here towards testing for that.”

“Mm.” Sanzo would have said he was making too big of a fuss, but for once, he wasn't. “He's lucky to have you.”

“Kouryuu, dear, the day your father got his initial diagnosis, I recognized that this would be my duty and accepted it.” Koumyou didn't look away from his research, his tone light but the text from the screen reflected in his glassy eyes. “I know I can't keep him alive forever, but there's so much more he wants to do before his time comes and I wish to give him that.”

Sanzo nodded, eyes low. “He's lived a good life, hasn't he?”

“He has, but he'd like to live the rest of it.” Koumyou laughed through his nose. “I think the both of us have given up on ever seeing grandchildren out of you – and I am entirely fine with that, of course – but I, for one, wish to live long enough to see you securely in a place where you will be happy. Your father feels the same.” He gave Sanzo a significant look. “It's a task I fear we cannot accomplish, but it is one we wish to see through for as long as we both can.”

A task that couldn't be accomplished. Sanzo half-wondered if Koumyou was mocking him like the reflection of the moon in a puddle, light too distant to reach, but pushed the thought from his mind. Probably just Koumyou being serious about his Buddhism again. Impermanence. It was one of the few concepts Sanzo had been able to attach himself to: that whatever stood before him, held him back, or shut him down, it would pass. It would end. He'd been able to take some measure in comfort that his bullies couldn't hold his head underwater forever, that Nii wouldn't be able to torment him forever, that he couldn't possibly feel lonely forever.

In that way, “forever” had become a dirty word for him.

“As long as you can,” Sanzo repeated, then studied Koumyou out of the corner of his eye. “That's how long you promised to stay with him, isn't it?”

Koumyou chuckled again. “Something like that.”

Sanzo shifted his weight in the chair, crumpling a little into it as he tried to parse his thoughts out. “How... did you know? That you would stay with Pop?”

Koumyou stopped typing and turned to look at Sanzo, blinking into the shadows that separated them as his sight adjusted and refocused on his son. “Kouryuu, that's an unusual question coming from you. Though, honestly, any question at all is unusual coming from you.” He smiled wryly and turned in his chair. “As for when you know you're with the right person, however, I don't have an exact answer for you. There's no specific measure. It's simply a feeling one has. When it's right, it's simply right.” Koumyou rested his chin on his hand. “In return, I ask you a question, dear: Why do you ask?”

Sanzo wished he could sink through the floor. “I... I want Pop to know I'm alright. I want to show him.”

Koumyou was quiet, then spoke softly into the darkness: “Do you think you'll be alright, then?”

Sanzo hesitated. “It can't last forever, can it?”

“No, dear, nothing does, but that's why we must enjoy the things we have while we have them. Besides, you so easily forget that good things can get better. Some things refine with time.” He gripped Sanzo's shoulder. “Don't rush your decision, of course, but ask yourself: can you possibly imagine yourself happier than you are as you are? If so, how?” Sanzo said nothing, jaw a little slack, but Koumyou smiled reassuringly. “You don't have to answer me. I want you to have an answer for yourself, however.” He gave his shoulder a squeeze, then stood. “I think I need some coffee, dear, but the nurses said we can use the beds in the relief station if you're tired.”

Sanzo nodded and got to his feet. “Goku was falling asleep last I saw him. I'll take him there.” He walked away from Koumyou as quickly as he could without looking like he was running away. He was thinking, however, and his thoughts carried him back to Goku's side.

Toudai roused a little when Sanzo removed Goku's hand from his. “Kouryuu?” Toudai squinted at him, eyes wet and bleary, his ragged breath fogging the inside of the ventilator mask. Sanzo patted his fingers.

“It's alright, Pop. I'm here and I'm alright. I'm just gonna take Goku to bed.” He eased Toudai's hand back onto the bed, trying to ignore Toudai's pinpoint-focus stare burning a hole in the side of his head. Sanzo roused Goku just enough to work him to his feet. “Come here, you should be laying in a bed.” Goku mumbled senselessly, but stumbled at Sanzo's side as Sanzo guided him to the relief room. There were a few nurses asleep in the bunks, as well as a few other family members of catastrophically ill ICU patients. Sanzo all but pushed Goku into one of the bunks, and worked his shoes off. Goku mumbled again and reached for Sanzo as he pulled the sheet over him.

“Hey... hey...” He grasped Sanzo's collar. “Love?”

Sanzo winced, but nodded, kissed Goku's forehead, and murmured into Goku's ear, “Love you too.” Goku smiled sleepily, but Sanzo's mind still worked, and the question escaped him: “Always?”

“Mhm. Always.” With that, Goku turned over, and Sanzo sat on the edge of the bed next to Goku's legs.

“I think I will, too. I've accepted that I will not always have Toudai, and I know someday Koumyou will pass on too, but... then there's you... and I can't imagine being without you.” Goku didn't answer him, but Sanzo knew he was only answering himself. He kicked his loafers under the bed and stretched out behind Goku. “I want to prove to my parents that I'm going to be with you for as long as we can stay together.”

Goku yawned again. “M'kay.”

Sanzo was suddenly wide awake, decaf be damned. He held Goku a little tighter, because he knew what that meant.

* * *

“Did you mean it?”

Sanzo was in no mood for stupid questions, even from the one person he usually tolerated stupidity from. He folded down the corner of his newspaper, squinting into the bright white light of the hospital's café, to see Goku leaned over the table, wide-eyed and all but shivering. Sanzo could see him bouncing on the balls of his feet – his shoeless feet. Goku must have rolled from the bunk and ran right down to Sanzo's preferred table to find him. He took a long slug of his coffee, then put his paper down.

"You need to be more specific."

Goku instantly deflated. "It _was_ a dream. It's okay." He sat in the seat across from Sanzo at the little round table. Sanzo automatically pushed a breakfast burrito from his tray in front of Goku, which Goku accepted with mumbled thanks and tore open as Sanzo studied his face.

"What dream?"

Goku chewed and swallowed slowly, eyeing Sanzo sideways as he did. Then, very carefully, he murmured, "Just a dream. Where you asked me to marry you." He swallowed again. "It's, um, stupid, but I thought maybe I got my dream and being awake mixed up. So, I had to ask. S--"

"In your dream." Sanzo steamrolled over the end of Goku's sentence, knowing the 'sorry' was coming and not wanting it. "What did you say?"

Goku gaped. "Whaddya--"

"When I asked you to marry me in your dream. What was your response?"

Goku turned beet red. "Um." He sunk down, voice dwindling, "I said yes, y'know? Of course I said yes, I love you more than I thought I could love someone, so..."

"And if I did ask now, would you still say yes?"

Goku sucked in air, then stood up, dropping his burrito back onto the foil. "That's not fair. Please don't tease me. I know Toudai's got you all on edge and you probably think I'm being dumb but--"

"I'm asking, Goku."

Goku swallowed again, then nodded. "I'd say yes. I told you."

"Alright." Sanzo bit his lower lip. "This... marriage. We'd need a wedding. Is small alright with you?"

Goku, wide-eyed but staring through Sanzo rather than at him, nodded again. Sanzo could see him actually shaking now. "It could just be you and me and that'd be fine, just 'cause I'd know I'm gonna be with you for as long as I live and that's all that matters to me, y'know?"

"Alright." Sanzo pushed his tray back and stood up, then kissed Goku on top of his head. "Sit. Eat. Finish your breakfast. Go home and get your binder. We've got something to do today. I want to marry you, Goku."

Goku's knees wobbled, and he dropped back down into his chair all at once. "So, you meant it?"

Sanzo's heart was beating too fast, and turning around to look at Goku would surely just make it pop like a soap bubble. He settled for planting a hand on his head and ruffling his hair until it stuck up in a few new directions. "I meant it." Then, he trudged away, adding. "Shower when you're home, too.” Goku snorted, and Sanzo quickly turned, his heart rattling in his breastbone. "I'm going to do some research. We can talk details when you get back."

Goku watched Sanzo lope out of the café, his cheeks still hot and his hair still a mess. Then, he yanked his phone out and dialed Nataku's number. "Hey – yeah, yeah, I know it's early, sorry, time's kind of skewed being here so much – yes, I'm gonna come home and get it today, sheesh!" He laughed a little, shaking his head. "No, look, I'll be home on the next bus I can catch after I finish breakfast, but I gotta tell someone, okay? That way, I know it's real." He laughed again, half to himself, half at the universe. "Sanzo wants to marry me. Have you ever heard anything crazier? Can ya believe it?"

Goku waited for Nataku to answer this time, and he heard him chuckle on the other end. "I've heard a lot crazier, but I actually believe you. Just say when, and call Mama next."

"Yeah, for sure!" Goku hung up and devoured the rest of his burrito as quick as he could. He could already feel a swelling in his heart, something too big to be contained, something that couldn't be stopped.

* * *

Koumyou was relieved not to be researching more diseases and complications, perfectly content as Sanzo leaned over his shoulder.

"I'm not seeing anything that says Goku's status will affect his ability to marry. His birth certificate has been changed, he is legally the gender he presents himself as, and California's marriage licenses no longer list 'husband' and 'wife,' just 'spouse 1' and 'spouse 2.' I know that last part from experience, dear." Koumyou winked at him. "I argued with the clerk of court for a month when your father and I filled the paperwork out to make them rewrite it for us, and it stuck.” Sanzo rolled his eyes but chose (nobly, in his opinion) not to gripe about how he'd heard that story before. “The only possible obstacle is if Goku decides to change his name again, because when men do that, it always trips the court up, but that's a conversation you'll have to have with him.” Sanzo nodded; he hadn't even considered asking Goku to change his name, to change anything, on his behalf. “Other than that, you're free and clear. All you need is the paperwork and to coordinate an officiant--"

"The hospital chaplain should be ordained to conduct weddings." Sanzo took up the hospital's directory off of the waiting room coffee table. "I'll dial their office."

"The hospital chaplain?" Koumyou knit his brow up, and Sanzo nodded.

"We're getting married here so Toudai can be here. I want him to see." Sanzo couldn't quite look at Koumyou when he turned all the way around on the sofa to stare at Sanzo.

“Kouryuu, I've never known you to make jests like this.”

Sanzo's ears got hot. “I'm not. I want to do this in the hospital so Toudai can be there, and soon. If Goku is agreeable, then tomorrow.” He glanced to his watch – Goku had been gone two hours, Sanzo had seen him grabbing his shoes and running for the bus, so hopefully it wouldn't be much longer – then looked back to the web page Koumyou had open. “The marriage license form is at the District Court?”

Koumyou didn't answer, instead staring at Sanzo as if he'd grown another head. “I'm still waiting for an explanation, dear.”

Sanzo narrowed his eyes. “Perspective.” Just then, Goku skidded in, shoelaces untied. He dropped down to a knee to tie them, as Sanzo approached and stood to wait for him. “I think that's enough of that on-one-knee thing for us.” He smiled wryly, and Goku grinned up at him.

“I dunno, you didn't take a knee for me!” He finished tying his shoe, then took both of Sanzo's hands. “Are you sure you don't want me to say it, down on one knee, just once to make it official?”

Sanzo rolled his eyes, but squeezed Goku's hand in one and ruffled his hair with the other. “Idiot. It's been asked and answered.” He hesitated as Goku stood, and didn't let go of his hand. “I do want to ask you one more thing.” Goku's eyes lit up, and Sanzo could tell Goku hadn't noticed Koumyou's inquisitive stare, taking the pair of them in. Sanzo tried to similarly ignore him. “I don't want to wait. Are you okay with getting married tomorrow?”

Goku gasped, jaw hanging slack. “Tomorrow?”

“It doesn't make a difference, right?” Sanzo squeezed his hand. “We could spend a year planning, but I don't want much, just you. If you want more, just say so, but all I want is the piece of paper and to make that promise to you.”

Sanzo waited for Goku to pout about wanting a “real” wedding, but instead, Goku chuckled a little. “You know I'm not patient. Waiting a year would suck! Tomorrow's fine.”

“But,” Koumyou interrupted, raising a hand, “Is there nothing more you want from your wedding day?”

Sanzo whipped around to glare at the devil's advocate, even as Goku hummed, then shrugged. “You think Hakkai could bring some cupcakes, for everyone? He prob'ly doesn't have time to put together a whole fancy cake. Oh, and I guess we gotta invite everyone!” Goku tugged Sanzo's sleeve. “I want Nataku and Gojyo and Hakkai and Mama there, too!”

“Once we have the time from the chaplain, we can invite them.” Sanzo shot Koumyou another warning look, but Koumyou, as per his usual modus operandi, ignored Sanzo and reached to touch Goku's arm.

“Are you sure that's all you want?”

“Yeah. It'll make both of us happy, you know?” Goku grinned, then squeezed Sanzo's hand again. “Sure, big parties are fun, but I know Sanzo'd be real uncomfortable, and I don't care a lot about dancing anyway, and it's not like any of us have big families to invite who'd have to travel in, y'know?” Then, Goku seemed to realize something. “Oh, but... there's usually a fancy dinner at weddings, right?” Sanzo hid a grimace, because he knew Goku had a lot of trouble saying no to food. However, he turned to Sanzo, trepidation in his knit brow. “Hey, um, when Toudai's better, can we have a nice dinner all together?”

Sanzo's heart clenched in his chest. He could see Koumyou had been shaken off of whatever point he'd been hoping to make to Sanzo too, and he squeezed Goku's shoulder. “I'll happily take us to a lovely restaurant when Toudai's no longer in the hospital. Anyone you wish to invite.”

Sanzo noticed how carefully Koumyou had phrased that, but said nothing. Goku looked completely satisfied, too, and that was all Sanzo could ask for. Sanzo took and squeezed his hand. “Come with me to the court. We've got a little paperwork to do.”

“I'll talk to the chaplain,” Koumyou volunteered, before his gaze dropped away, his smile suddenly too shallow. “And Toudai's head doctor, as well.” Then, he forced his usual chipper smile. “Circuit Court, Kouryuu.”

Sanzo scoffed. “You could have told me before.”

“Shoo, off with you.” Koumyou motioned with a little flip of his fingers. “I'll handle things here a little while, boys.”

Goku wrapped his hand tight around Sanzo's, his smile as bright and genuine as a day when they weren't watching Toudai waste away. Sanzo could only squeeze his hand back, unable to look back at Koumyou to say, "We'll be back in a while." All he wanted was Goku's smile.

Knowing, seeing the path forward was a good reminder that there was more to this than the immediate. He was almost certain Goku hadn't realized why they were rushing to the altar, so to speak, but if he had, then he didn't mind. Goku going with the flow, following the path before him, was a mercy. Sanzo would be happy for things to be easy when so much else was so very difficult.

* * *

Sanzo never thought he'd see someone so happy to fill out paperwork. Goku actually looked more and more delighted at every blank he filled, answering every question Sanzo had with squeaked excitement:

“I got all your information right here?”

“S'exacklywhatitsaysonmybirthcertificate!” Goku's grin was shaking a little, along with the rest of him. Sanzo snorted.

“And you don't want to change your name?”

“Nothisisjustfine!”

He was damn near vibrating when Sanzo signed at the bottom. The clerk of court raised an eyebrow at him, but processed the marriage license right in front of them and handed back with the explanation:

“You're good to go. Just get a witness and an officiant's signature, and get it filed with us within ten days of the ceremony.” She smiled a little as Goku took the marriage certificate with very careful fingers, holding it gingerly in its envelope as if it were fragile.

He insisted on carrying it in both hands the entire walk back to the car and on the drive back to the hospital, gazing at it in rapture and ignoring Sanzo giving him the hairy eyeball. It wasn't until they had parked that Goku whispered an explanation: “It's real. I can't believe it's real, but it's really real. I can touch it and hold it.” Sanzo could see him making an effort not to hug it, but slung an arm over his shoulder.

“It is real,” he muttered. “And we're here.” Goku squealed a little and kissed Sanzo on the cheek, diving into him with his effort, then jumped out of the car and bolted for the front door.

When he and Goku got back to Toudai's room, it was to Koumyou apparently holding court in the hallway, surrounded by a small gaggle of men and women in scrubs and a man wearing a priest's collar. Koumyou's gaze found him through the crowd, and Sanzo heard him distinctly say, "Here he is now." His stomach dropped through his intestines as Koumyou waved him over with a few urgent flaps of his hand, and Sanzo, still gripping Goku's hand tight, pushed through the crowd. "Kouryuu, I managed to make contact with Dr. Magnusson – that specialist I told you about, dear – and he reviewed your father's files and said the symptoms match his studies. He's flying out here on the double to perform a diagnostic fiber-optic bronchoscopy." Sanzo nodded curtly, and Koumyou bit his lip. "However, there is a small risk that due to your father's weak breathing, he, er, may not wake up from anesthetic."

That drew Sanzo up tight, though Goku squeezed his hand at his side, biting his lip. "Is this something he needs?"

"Nothing else has helped." Koumyou lowered his eyes. "I spoke with your father already, and Toudai is comfortable with the risk. He's not getting better, and with the right diagnosis, we can finally have the right treatment, but without the right treatment, he'll only continue to weaken. So, this is a risk he's willing to take for a chance at recovery." Koumyou looked down, and Sanzo realized just how small he looked all of a sudden, without Toudai, bear-big, bear-strong, at his back.

"If Pop is alright with it, then I'll be alright with it."

"I know, dear." Koumyou nodded, then glanced to the chaplain. "My son," he said _sotto voce_ , motioning to Sanzo, before turning to face Sanzo again. "Doctor Magnusson will be here tonight for the consultation, and barring anything unexpected, surgery will be at noon tomorrow. They will begin preparing Toudai to go under at eleven-thirty. The chaplain is attempting to clear the hospital chapel in advance of that."

“I may not be able to give you very much advanced notice,” the chaplain warned, glancing cautiously between Kouymou and Sanzo. “But I'll alert you the moment I confirm a time.” He glanced to Goku with a kindly smile, then to Sanzo. “For now, may I have your paperwork? I'd also like to speak with you during my office hours, any time between four and five this evening, to discuss your preferences for the ceremony.”

"Here." Goku suddenly thrust a hand out, offering up the marriage license, though Sanzo saw his fingers quake when the chaplain took it. "Everything's there, the clerk said so. I can be ready whenever, ten minutes, right now, and anything's fine with me." Sanzo could tell he was putting a brave face on, and couldn't be more grateful for it. However, he could also sense Goku's sudden nerves as he took a step back, as Koumyou thanked the chaplain and saw him off. “I'm gonna call Mama. I'll be back soon!” He spun around and jogged away. Sanzo grimaced a little, even as Koumyou touched his arm. The crowd had dispersed a little, enough for Sanzo to hear him when he laid his hand over his and spoke in a gentle whisper:

“It's only a slight chance, Kouryuu. He'll very likely be just fine. This is a moment of hope.”

Sanzo sucked his lower lip in, held his breath, then let it out and shook Koumyou off. “I'm going to go in with him for a while.”

“Of course, dear.” Koumyou eased back and Sanzo pulled away, but Koumyou's gaze burned on his back as he went back into Toudai's room.

The heart monitor still beat steadily, evenly, but too quickly for a man laid prone in a bed. Toudai was breathing with some force, eyes half-open and focused on something high and far away through the ceiling. As Sanzo sat and took his hand, he roused and turned towards him.

“Kouryuu?” He sounded frail, weak, and his watery eyes remained unfocused as they seemed to search for Sanzo.

“I'm here.” He squeezed Toudai's hand tight, and felt him relax, saw him sink back, looking a little relieved.

“Stay a while, son,” he rasped. “I hear you've got some big news.”

Sanzo let himself crack a smirk, and he rubbed the inside of Toudai's palm with his thumb, the way Toudai would when he was small and scared and wanted someone to hold his hand. “Think you got it in that heart of yours for one more surprise, old man? Just you wait.”

* * *

The conversation with the chaplain was brief, and Sanzo answered his questions honestly. He didn't remember what was said, only that Goku held his hand the entire time. They agreed to write their own vows and come back in the morning when the chaplain had the chapel clear for them.

After that meeting, Koumyou insisted Sanzo go home for the night and take Goku with him so they could write their vows in peace and have a quiet night to themselves. As much as Sanzo had missed the bed he and Goku shared, as sleep-warm Goku's skin was when he was nestled against his chest, as soothing the cadence of his breathing was, Sanzo didn't sleep soundly. Every time he closed his eyes, he'd snap awake after a scrap of dream he couldn't remember, heart hammering in his chest inexplicably and wondering what he'd woken to. He'd check his phone for messages, and there were none through the entire night but he felt compelled to check, compelled to know. He didn't want to think that his last chance to make his father happy had been thwarted by Death's cold touch, but he couldn't see it, couldn't control it, so he had no choice but to fear it.

Somewhere around dawn, Sanzo finally rolled away from Goku, sat up, and turned the ionizer on for his first cigarette of the day. (Goku couldn't stop him from smoking inside, but Sanzo had compromised by agreeing to keep the air as clean as possible.) Even with the sky barely turning pink, he felt he was wasting daylight, knowing that Toudai could die any moment, that he could sleep and never wake. And that would be the end. Toudai would be gone forever.

In taking comfort in the knowledge that nothing would last forever, facing the only forever there was felt like living under the shadow of a falling star.

As Sanzo blew the first stream of smoke into the chill air, he felt familiar warmth on his arm. “Go back to sleep. You have a few more minutes.”

“Mm-mm.” Goku half-sat, half-slumped against Sanzo's side, swinging his legs off the edge of the bed as he rubbed his cheek against Sanzo's arm. “Wanna be awake with you.” He slid his arm around Sanzo's waist, leaving his other arm free so he could finish his cigarette, and Sanzo sighed but ran his palm down to the small of his back. “Hey, c'n I ask you something?”

“I can't stop you.”

Goku chuckled, leaning a little harder against Sanzo as he tilted his chin up towards him. “What do you think happens to us after we die?”

Sanzo grimaced; damn him, Goku didn't even have to have his eyes open to read him like a book. “Depends on who you ask.”

“'M askin' you.”

Sanzo scoffed, but considered the question. “Koumyou told me that he believes that one who passes away without having achieved Enlightenment reincarnates. Wheel of Samsara, that sort of thing.” He sucked in a lungful of smoke, then exhaled it into a thin cloud over his head. “They're born again, they live again, they attempt to achieve Enlightenment again, they die again.”

“That sounds like what they taught me about Buddhism in school.” Goku shrugged a little. “But you told the chaplain yesterday your Dad was Buddhist, and you're not.”

“I'm not,” Sanzo agreed, then nudged Goku's shoulder. “And you told me you weren't religious.”

Goku actually chuckled. “No. I don't really know if there's a God or not. Mama tried to raise me Catholic, but the priest at the church said that he wasn't gonna give me sacraments if I was going to, um, pretend to be a boy.”

Sanzo felt something burn in him at the way Goku's voice dwindled saying that. “Is that how it was?”

“Mhm. Mama tried to appeal to the Bishop, but he agreed with the priest. So, Mama said I didn't have to be Catholic if the Catholics wouldn't accept me for what and who I was.” Sanzo felt his ire cool a little – for all his annoyances with Kanzeon Bosatsu, she had made Goku who he was and he knew he owed her a debt of gratitude for that. Goku, contemplatively, added, “If not being Catholic because I decided to be who I am means I can't go to Heaven when I die, then I don't mind. I'll probably be alright anyway, since I think I'm a pretty good guy, y'know? Hopefully I'll just go to purgatory, 'cause I might do stuff Jesus doesn't like but I do plenty of good stuff, too.”

Sanzo didn't want to think about what would happen to Goku after he died, nor about the reality that Goku would die someday at all. “I don't like the idea of Heaven, or Hell or purgatory, for that matter.”

“Mm, me neither. I'd rather think there's just kind of... nothing.” Goku closed his eyes into Sanzo's chest. “Nothing good. Nothing bad. Just peace.”

“Peace,” Sanzo repeated. “I prefer that, too.” He rubbed Goku's back, and Goku rolled forward to look up at Sanzo.

“What do you think will happen to us after Toudai is gone?”

Sanzo's chest ached with a sudden pang. “I don't know.”

“Mm. You don't like not knowing.”

“I don't.”

Goku chuckled. “Nobody does, right?” He sat up and took Sanzo's hand. “I can tell you a little. He won't be here anymore.” Sanzo winced, unable to look at Goku. “He won't be here, but I will.”

That surprised Sanzo. Goku squeezed his hand, adding, “I'm going to be here, and so will Koumyou for as long as he lives, and Hakkai and Gojyo will be here, and you'll still go to work and help Koumyou at his shop, and we're going to keep living. We'll say our goodbyes when he has to leave, like we do when anyone has to leave, but then we'll keep going for as long as we can.” Goku twisted around to smile up at him. “We'll miss him, but sometimes people leave, and missing them is part of living, you know? Everything is part of living.” Goku gave him another squeeze. “I can't wait to keep living with you.” Sanzo made an inquiring noise, hoping Goku couldn't feel the heat on his face.

“Go back to sleep. You sound like you're barely awake, and you're stupid enough after your morning coffee.” He carded his fingers into Goku's hair and gave it a thorough fluff. Goku just whined.

“I mean it. I'm gonna be with you forever, for however long forever lasts. I want you to be the last thing I see before I go to the forever peace.” He turned his handhold into a hug around the waist with a slip of the arm. “I hope that's okay with you.”

For the first time, the idea of forever wasn't scary. “I suppose you won't give me a choice.”

“You know it.” Goku held on tight, but Sanzo heard his breathing evening out again. He continued to play with Goku's hair as his head lolled in his lap, before snuffing his long-spent cigarette.

He wasn't sure how long they sat like that, only that it wasn't forever. After the sun had moved, even though Goku hadn't, Sanzo's phone buzzed with a text alert, and he checked to see it was from Koumyou:

“ _Plz come 2 th hospital ASAP. Chaplain wood like to meet w/u2.”_

Koumyou had never quite mastered autocorrect, but the message was clear. Sanzo patted Goku's back. “We have to get dressed and go.”

Goku groaned, but sat up as if he hadn't fallen back asleep at all. “I'll make peanut-butter-banana toast while you shower.” He rolled to his feet and trudged for the kitchen, and Sanzo could rise and put one foot in front of the other. The shadows still hung heavy over them, but Goku's 'forever' was a light he could hold on to.

* * *

Sanzo found Koumyou waiting with the chaplain near the door to Toudai's ICU room, absorbed in some conversation that sounded irrelevant at a distance. However, when Sanzo came close with Goku at his heels, he quickly turned towards him, his smile suddenly serious as if a switch had been flipped.

“Good news, dear. We've got the chapel reserved and a time set. You can be married at eleven.” Sanzo nodded, but Koumyou took his hand. “Are you certain about this, dear? Nobody will begrudge you if you back out now.”

“Have I given you a single indication that I'm changing my mind?” Sanzo jerked his hand from Koumyou's hold. “This is what I want.” He glanced behind him. “Goku, this is what you want too, correct?”

“Yeah.” Goku took Sanzo's hand in his. “I'm not changing my mind. I'm happy.”

Koumyou glanced to the chaplain. “You spoke with them yesterday. Are you comfortable marrying them?”

The chaplain hummed, but smiled benignly. “Gentlemen, you are young, but you both seem confident in your decision. Marriage is a risk, but many things in life are.” He gave Koumyou a significant look. “We all have our doubts about things, but what would life be if one never took risks?”

The words burned in Sanzo's chest, but he still shot a glare at Koumyou. “Is that clear enough for you? You're the only one hesitating.”

“I'm not, dear.” Koumyou shook his head. “I want you to be happy as much as you want to be happy. Is two hours enough to get ready?”

Goku squeezed Sanzo's hand all of a sudden, but Sanzo nodded again. "Two hours is plenty." Sanzo squeezed Goku's hand back, and turned to him. "Call your mother and Nataku."

Goku nodded. "You gonna call Hakkai?"

"I'll call Hakkai and Sharak. Sharak might not be able to make it, Hakkai will call Gojyo, no doubt, but that's a risk I'm much more willing to take." He could barely smile at his own bitter joke, then let go of Goku's hand and nodded to the chaplain. "We'll contact our witnesses."

"Good idea. Anyone you want here, there's plenty of room." The chaplain gave a mercifully genuine smile and stepped back. “I'll meet you at the hospital chapel just before eleven.”

“Eleven,” Sanzo repeated, and the chaplain eased out of the conversation, just as Koumyou reached for Sanzo again. “I have to make a phone call.” He brushed Koumyou off, released Goku's hand and patted his back, and walked in the opposite direction as quick as he could.

Two hours. Two hours and forever would start. Now that he was thinking about it, there was a tiny, tiny tremor of doubt that made it difficult to dial, but his decision was made. The phone rang twice before the other end picked up.

“ _Good morning, Sanzo._ ” Hakkai was sober and calm, and Sanzo knew he was going to treat him with kid gloves. Of course. “ _How is your father?_ ”

“No change,” Sanzo lied. No need to send Hakkai into a tizzy, even if Hakkai likely wouldn't believe him. Of course, even if he didn't believe him, Hakkai wouldn't call him on it. Not now.

“ _I see. I'm sorry to hear that._ ” Sanzo tried not to snort at just how predictable Hakkai was, as he paused to think. “ _Is there anything I can do for you?_ ”

Sanzo took a breath, and said: “Be here in two hours. I want my Pop to see me get married.”

There was another long pause. “ _Ah. I see. I'll be there._ ”

“Thank you. Goodbye.” Sanzo hung up and took a few breaths. Then, he shot a text to Sharak - she likely wouldn't wake, but she deserved to at least know - then about-faced and returned to Toudai's room. Koumyou was sitting with him, and Sanzo sat down beside him, unable to even look at him. Toudai, however, turned towards him, looking vaguely more alert today.

“You say you have a surprise for me today, son?” He smiled, a little wobbly, but with a familiar spark of mischief in his eyes. Sanzo scoffed.

“Don't get yourself all worked up.”

“Mm.” Toudai chuckled, and glanced to Koumyou. “We used to worry that you took yourself too seriously.”

“He's too much like you, Momo,” Koumyou agreed, giggling and patting Toudai's shoulder. “I always worried he'd be just as much of a fuss as you are.”

“You worried in vain, dearest.” Toudai smirked and tilted his head to kiss Koumyou's palm. “He's worse.”

“Hmph.” Sanzo scowled, even though Koumyou giggled.

“He's his own man. We gave him the freedom to be whoever he wants, and he's turned out quite a man, has he not? Independent, making his own decisions about who he is and what he wants to be, owns his own business and helps us to run ours...”

“Yes, yes,” Toudai agreed, then coughed thickly, wetly. Both Koumyou and Sanzo went for the tissue box, but Toudai covered his mouth, then gulped in air and cleared his throat. “Ah, and here I am, less independent than ever.”

“You'll be back on your own feet soon enough, Momo,” Koumyou murmured, and Sanzo noticed him slide his hold to Toudai's open hand. “You'll take your next steps soon enough.”

“How much further can I go?” Toudai chuckled again, his focus shooting back to Sanzo. “As long as I can follow along behind you and watch how far you go, I'll be happy, son.”

Sanzo's chest ached, his heart constricted. “Just you watch, then.”

Toudai cleared his throat again, then reached out and laid his big palm over Sanzo's leg. “You know, when Koumyou said he wanted to add a baby to the Sanzo family, just a year after we adopted Ken'yuu, I thought he was mad. I thought we were too old for a tiny one. Then, he showed me that first picture of you that Kanny sent, and...” Toudai trailed off, and Koumyou picked up:

“Kouryuu, dear, I fell for you head over heels, it was as if the gods themselves had put your pretty little head at our feet. I fell, and Momo fell hard after. I think he doted on you in his own special way, even if he was made of sterner stuff than I.”

Toudai chuckled again, wistfully studying Sanzo's face. “We knew the commitment we were making, and we dearly wanted to make it for you, with you. You couldn't have known what you were getting into when you first wrapped your tiny little fingers around mine, but we did.” He laced his big fingers with Sanzo and squeezed, and Sanzo faintly realized that yes, Toudai was still bigger than him, but he'd caught up a lot since he was a little boy playing chase. Now, they were both running from the shadows, side by side. Toudai gripped Sanzo's hand tight. “I'm with you, son, for as long as I can be.”

“Me too.” Koumyou gripped Sanzo's shoulder. “You'll be walking alone someday, my love, but I know very well how strong you are, how sure your path. We know you'll be alright.”

“I'm proud,” Toudai rasped, his grip tightening, “that you're part of our family. That you are Sanzo.”

That ached, but it was a good pain, the kind of pain that tells one that they're alive. Sanzo squeezed his hand back. “I'm not the only one. Watch me, for as long as you can.”

“That's my plan, son.” Toudai's face cracked into a weary grin, and he shifted his shoulders against the bed as he tried to sit up a little more. “I'd stay with you forever if I could, but I can't.” He got both hands around Sanzo's, holding it tight. “But your memories of us will.”

“For as long as you live,” Koumyou added. “Those will be with you forever.”

“I know.” Sanzo couldn't admit aloud how tight he would hold on to those memories, but instead held tight onto Toudai's hand. “You've taught me all I know. Trust me. Everything you've said has come back to annoy me some way or another.” Toudai laughed sharply, and Koumyou giggled and patted Sanzo's back.

“That's what parents do, my love.”

Sanzo chuckled, relaxing into a smirk and loosening his grip on Toudai a little. “Yeah.” Then, he leaned forward. “So, how do you feel about the Sanzo family getting bigger?”

Toudai's face lit up. “Just like Koumyou, are you?”

“No babies.”

“No,” Toudai grinned with mischief. “Not yet, I should hope, and never if you don't want that, but whatever you're getting yourself into, I know you're smart enough to make that commitment when the time is right.”

Sanzo could hear Toudai's heart monitor beeping just a little faster - not dangerously, but at a joyful tempo - and nodded to himself. “The time is right.”

* * *

Goku had waited in the front lobby for their visitors, fidgeting on his phone and trying not to watch the road. However, he could practically feel Hakkai and Gojyo coming long before the pair of them walked through the front doors, sought him out in the bustle of the hospital entryway, and came right for him.

Gojyo, with his long legs, got to him first, and leaned over his armchair to fluff his hair. “Hey, kiddo.” His friendly smile was sobered, but still warm and kind. “You holding up okay?”

"Yeah." Goku put on a smile, but forcing it through his nerves actually physically hurt. "I mean, I'm not the one dyin', so..."

"Oh, Goku." Hakkai, who was carrying a rectangular box, carefully knelt to meet his eyes. "They're doing everything they can for Toudai. Today will be a happy day for him."

"It might be his last," Goku admitted, breaking eye contact from him. Gojyo and Hakkai traded a quick look, Hakkai of surprise, and Gojyo with an eyebrow waggle of 'what-the-fuck-do-I-say-to-that?' and Goku knew he had to explain. "They're... they're gonna do surgery later. The doctor said he might not wake up from the anesthesia 'cause his breathing is so weak..."

Gojyo, sounding more sure than he looked, snorted and muttered, "Kid, ol' Toudai is a tough-ass boot. You can bet that he's not gonna go out from a heavy nap."

"Usually, such risks are low," Hakkai added carefully, "but the hospital would be neglecting its duties if it didn't tell you of the possible risk, much like we post signs stating that our kitchen is neither nut, gluten, wheat, corn, or egg-free, no matter how few customers require such knowledge. The doctors will take good care of him." Hakkai patted Goku's knee with the box balanced in one hand, then carefully stood. "I'd like to sign in, put these--” He indicated the box with a nod – “somewhere safe, and visit with Toudai before the momentous occasion. Do you think they'll allow me to see him?"

"Mm, dunno, he's in ICU so it's family only, but the nurses know today's special." Goku kicked his feet back and forth, letting them swing under the chair and watching the tips of his toes vanish. "Nataku and Mama already got here, but they went right to the chapel and didn't try. You can ask, I guess. They only let me in at all 'cause when the nurses told me I couldn't, Toudai heard and read them the riot act from his bed."

Hakkai cracked a smile. "Ah. Well, I have no such backup, but I'll inquire with the receptionist. Gojyo, if you would, please."

"You got it, babe." Gojyo tucked his hands in his pockets, content to watch Hakkai go, but once he was gone, Gojyo lightly punched Goku's shoulder. "So, tell me how you're really feelin', kid."

Goku rolled his eyes. "Hakkai put you up to somethin' dumb, huh?"

"Idiot." Gojyo punched his shoulder a little harder. "I put me up to this. You've been toughin' it out here like a rubber sonofabitch, bouncing back from everything thrown atcha, and still sounding like your usual dopey, happy self when we talk on the phone. You look scared, kid. What's on your mind?"

Goku snorted, chanced a look at Gojyo -- he had his hands on his hips and was trying to look stern, but only succeeding in looking worried -- and turned back to watching his feet swing. "It... it feels too real, all of a sudden."

"Too real." Gojyo puzzled over this, as Goku nodded.

"I kept... kept expecting Toudai to get better, all of a sudden, just like that." Goku rubbed the back of his head. “And he kept getting worse. Then, out of nowhere, Sanzo wants me to marry him, and things start happening, and it's so real, but--” His hand tightened in his hair. “What if... what if it isn't? What if Toudai doesn't make it, and Sanzo changes his mind 'cause he only got married for Toudai to see, and--”

“Slow down.” Gojyo put both hands on Goku's shoulders, looking right into his face. “Deep breath in, slow breath out.” Gojyo guided Goku through a few breaths, then gave him a little shake. “Did you tell Sanzo you felt this way?” Goku shook his head. “Aw, kid.”

“He'd tell me I was being stupid, and I know I'm being stupid.”

“You're not being stupid.” Gojyo sat next to him, but rested one arm on his shoulder and his hand on his head. “You're being young and scared. You're hardly twenty-one, you're barely out of school, and you fell in love hard and fast. It's probably weird to think the rest of your life with him starts today.” He took another breath in, prompting Goku to follow along and do the same. “I mean, hearin' Sanzo say he wants to get married, that rings weird to me, too. Thing is, I've known the guy as long as you have, so you and me both know: he's got a shitty attitude, but ninety percent of the time, he actually means well.”

Goku chuckled a little. “Yeah. I know.”

Gojyo grinned toothily and gave Goku a nudge in the ribs with one elbow. “So, why would he jerk you around? He wouldn't have asked you to marry him if he didn't mean it.” Then, he leaned close. “But, uh, if you're not ready, nobody's gonna force you. Just, talk to Sanzo, tell him--”

“Hey.” Goku yanked Gojyo's sleeve. “If Hakkai asked you to marry him, even though you've only been together a year, would'ja do it?”

Gojyo, taken aback, rubbed his chin and chuckled, then lowered his eyes. “In a fucking blink.” He shook his head slowly. “In a heartbeat. In an instant.” Gojyo snapped his fingers. “Like that.” Then, he slung his arm around Goku's shoulder again. “Don't get me wrong, I get why you're going for it. Just, remember, it's your decision too.”

“Yeah.” Goku let himself rest against Gojyo's chest for a second. “And even if I'm nervous, I'm really happy it's gonna happen. So much could change, but I want to think that me and Sanzo aren't gonna change so much that we're not gonna be together. It's just like, it's real, and it's there, and all I gotta do is take it, but...”

“What if it gets yanked away, huh?”

Goku pursed his lips. “I never had a family before I met Toudai and Koumyou. I think they basically adopted me the day they met me, but they're my parents now. Thinking that I finally got a Pop, and now, only this much later, he might be gone...”

“You had him for as long as you had him, kid. It's more than some get.” Gojyo patted his back. “What've you been tellin' Sanzo?”

“That we got memories.” Goku inhaled slowly, then exhaled just as slowly and smiled. “Yeah. I wanna make at least one more.” He hopped up. “Wanna head up to the chapel? It's about time.”

“Is it?” Gojyo glanced to the clock on the wall. “Well, let's get the groom to the church, yeah?” He grinned, and stepped back to let Goku lead the way.

Goku hadn't been ready to admit how nervous he was, not when he felt the weight of Sanzo leaning on him, the weight of the shadows overhead. Even so, he knew he was strong enough to handle it. Gojyo at his back, and knowing that he was walking towards Sanzo, was a good reminder.

If this was what the rest of his life would be, then he'd be happy with it.

* * *

The minute hand neared the hour with each ticking second that passed, and Sanzo tried to watch the clock instead of watching the nurses help to mount Toudai's equipment on a wheelchair. He only reached in when the tubes were out of the way, when Toudai was clear to be moved. He and Koumyou helped him to a full sit, and Koumyou assisted him the two steps from the bed into the chair. He groaned as he sat again, wincing and trying to move his legs.

“I've been in bed so long, I've forgotten how to walk.” He groaned, flexing his toes. "I hope they go easy on me in physical therapy. This old heart won't be able to take it."

"We'll walk that road together when we get there." Koumyou smoothed his hand down Toudai's back, pushing the folds of his hospital gown into place. Toudai merely huffed something about 'at least one of us will be walking' and tried to adjust his legs, but Sanzo put a blanket over him.

"Dad, let me push."

"Ah." Koumyou stepped back. "By all means, dear." He moved to Toudai's side and took his hand, and Sanzo moved behind him to take hold of the wheelchair's arms, cautious of the monitors and machines mounted to it, and rolled him forward.

"I should be escorting you," Toudai muttered, stewing in his seat under the scrutiny of the nurses and orderlies supervising the move. "I should be dragging you to the altar by the arm..."

"You're sounding like your usual self." Sanzo tried to crack a smile, but it felt flat. Toudai merely 'hmph'ed, though he at least looked satisfied.

"It's a good day." He coughed, cleared his throat, and settled into the chair for the ride.

The chapel was a small, bright room, with broad windows that filled it with sunlight that warmed all of the wooden benches and the raised stage. Sanzo usually saw people here whenever he walked by, praying on their knees, curled up on the benches, sometimes even sleeping, but for now, it was emptied but for people Sanzo already knew: Nataku and Mother Bosatsu, Hakkai and Gojyo. Goku and Nataku were standing off to the side, talking quietly between themselves. Gojyo was leaned over showing Kanzeon Bosatsu something or other (very likely more photographs of his baby niece, which Sanzo was sure he'd already displayed for Goku with lots of cooing and squealing), and Hakkai was making what Sanzo was certain was polite conversation with the chaplain. However, when they pushed Toudai through the open doors, a hush fell over the room. Sanzo parked the wheelchair at the front of the room and stepped back, as both Mother Bosatsu and Hakkai all but fell over themselves to stand before him.

"Momo, you old fussbucket, what's with all these machines?" Kanzeon clicked her tongue at him. "Don't tell me this is all actually getting one over on you."

Toudai took a wet breath and sighed. "Kanny, old men get sick. It happens."

“Old men can get well, too.” Hakkai patted his hand, smiling wryly. “Though a positive attitude supposedly helps.”

Toudai managed a laugh. “You know me better than that, don't you?” Hakkai forced a little laugh in return.

“I'd like to think I do. But I know I'm not the only one who's had you in my thoughts.” He stood back as Gojyo, looking a little somber, swaggered over.

“Hey, boss.” He got down at eye level next to him. “Givin' everyone here trouble?”

“Hah. Boy, you know how much trouble I can be.” He grinned wryly, a shade of his old self, and Gojyo laughed sharply and patted his back.

“Yeah.” He seemed not to know what to say, holding awkwardly on a taut grin, his hand shaking a little on Toudai's back as everything he wanted to and couldn't say roiled on the tip of his tongue. “Yeah. Uh, do me a favor and get well, will ya?” He gave him another pat on the back, gentle this time. “I ain't the only one who wants you around a little longer.” He glanced up towards Sanzo, grinning with a shade of somberness. “Remind me to show you Livvie later. She's growin' like a weed, it's fantastic.”

Toudai seemed to brighten at this, his eyes as wet as his thick voice. “I'd... I'd love to see your niece.”

Koumyou tugged on Sanzo's arm just as Gojyo, always ready to boast, went for his phone again, and led him to where Goku was standing, fidgeting. “The chaplain will ask everyone to sit in just a minute,” Koumyou said into his ear, with the gentle voice he used to use when soothing Sanzo to sleep. “If you have anything you want to say to Goku before we begin, you should say it now.” He released Sanzo's arm and went to go look at Gojyo's phone. Sanzo twisted after him for a second, then returned his attention to Goku.

Goku looked tired, excited, nervous, and happy to see him all at the same time. He took Sanzo's hand in both of his and kissed his palm. “Hey.” He grinned and squeezed over his fingers. “You ready?”

“I've been ready.” Sanzo leaned in and kissed the top of his head. “This changes nothing.”

“Yeah. Everything else might, but you and me...” Goku bowed his head into Sanzo's chest, and the two of them stood together in embrace for a long, long moment.

The chaplain was the one to interrupt them. “Are we ready for the ceremony?” Goku grumbled a little, but pretended not to be put out when he let go of Sanzo and stepped back. He didn't break eye contact, instead letting his smile shine on Sanzo a little longer.

“I've been ready, too.”

The chaplain smiled, cleared his throat, and announced, “Will everyone take their seats?” A hush fell over the room, and Gojyo shoved his phone away and hurried over to his seat, Hakkai right behind him. Nataku darted over to Goku, tugged his sleeve and gave him a thumbs-up, and hurried to sit on the bench next to Hakkai. Koumyou sat next to where Toudai's chair was parked, and Kanzeon on the other side of Koumyou, her hand on his knee. The chaplain had the certificate on his podium already, and Goku and Sanzo took their places on the raised altar, standing before him. The chaplain cast his eyes over the few gathered there, smiling benignly, and for a moment, the only sound in the room was the steady chirp of Toudai's heart monitor.

Sanzo centered himself on that even noise for the few seconds of silence that hung over him. _Last chance to change your mind._

No. He was ready for the change.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of Goku Son and Kouryuu Sanzo.” The chaplain gestured between them, holding their gaze for a moment each. “You have come together through life's hardships and have chosen to continue your journey as partners in love and life, as you join together in these most sacred vows. Turn to each other and take hands.”

Sanzo faced Goku, and clasped Goku's hands in his. His face burned for a moment at the open show of affection, but was keenly reminded – wasn't that the point? Everyone here knew how much he cared about Goku, whether or not he was very good at showing it. Goku held his hands tight, squeezing on, and Sanzo centered himself on that point of contact, focusing on that connection. It grounded him, even as the chaplain read:

"Goku Son, do you take Kouryuu to be your spouse?"

Goku looked between Sanzo and the chaplain for a second, but the chaplain winked and mouthed something, and Goku gasped and said, "I do!"

"Do you promise to love, cherish, and support him for the rest of your days, as long as you both shall live?"

Goku lit up with excitement. "Yeah, I do!"

"And Kouryuu Sanzo." The chaplain faced him. "Do you take Goku Son to be your spouse?"

Sanzo didn't feel afraid. He didn't even feel everyone watching him, the expectations, the shadows, the doubts. Instead, all he felt was Goku, holding his hands in place. "I do."

"And do you promise to love, cherish, and support him for the rest of your days, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

The words left him almost like a sigh of relief, and Goku's beaming grin only made him feel lighter. Sanzo wondered if this was what was meant when people said they felt like they were so happy they were walking on air. Then, the chaplain cleared his throat and spoke under his breath, "Gentlemen, your rings."

Sanzo felt himself crash back down to earth. _Oh shit._

Goku's eyes went wide, and he let go of Sanzo's hand to cover his mouth. "Um, I didn't... did you?"

Sanzo didn't dare admit that he'd completely skimmed over that detail. Not out loud. He was certain his own cat-being-dropped-in-the-ocean expression said it all. Somewhere behind him, Koumyou laughed into his hand.

"Kouryuu, _darling,_ did you perhaps overlook something in your haste?" Sanzo hunched down as if he could just bore down through the floor if he tried hard enough. "No matter. Come here."

Sanzo sharply about faced and marched towards Koumyou with his eyes on the ground, not daring to look him in the face. Koumyou took his hand and pressed something into it. "These are merely possessions, Kouryuu; I don't need mine to be ever reminded of your father's love for me."

"Mine doesn't fit me anymore, anyway, but its imprint will remain," Toudai rumbled beside him, and Sanzo realized he was holding his fathers' wedding rings. He gaped at them, unable to withhold his shock, but Koumyou merely motioned.

"Go on, love."

"Before I have to give you a good kick in the ass," Toudai added, smirking. "That's the Sanzo family way, isn't it?"

Sanzo swallowed, forced his jaw shut, and returned to the altar. Goku had stopped smiling, even as Sanzo put Toudai's ring in his hand. "Did you write vows?"

"Mhm." Goku jammed a hand into his pocket and pulled out a folded up piece of paper. He paused just as he went to open it, and glanced over Sanzo's shoulder to Toudai and Koumyou. "It's... it's real special that you passed on your rings to us. Your love helped bring ours together, y'know? And now, we'll always carry some of that with us. So, thank you for sharing your family with me." Koumyou coquettishly flapped a hand, pretending embarrassment, then motioned for Goku to continue and gripped Toudai's hand tight again. Goku pulled his paper open, and glanced down at it a few times before looking Sanzo in the face. "S... Sanzo... Kouryuu. Becoming part of your life is the greatest thing that's ever happened to me. I don't know where I'd be if we hadn't met, but I would never have known the same happiness, sorrow, wholeness, and love if you'd never come and filled my world with your light." He reached over and took Sanzo's hand. "You're my forever. You're my future! You're the sun in my sky, and I'm going to be with you for as long as you'll have me. That's my promise to you." He fumbled the ring for a second, then slid it onto Sanzo's hand. "With this ring, I make that promise."

Toudai's ring was just a little loose past the knuckle, but Sanzo closed his hand tight around it, feeling its weight there. He looked at the faint scratches in the ring's surface for a moment, then back to his parents. He nodded. "Thank you for everything." Then, he turned back to Goku. "And you. If we're taking this one step further, then let me remind you: I'm not your sun. I'm not your light. What we share, that is light." Goku grinned, and Sanzo couldn't help but smile back. "You, Goku, are what gives my world, my life, light. You're the gravity that holds me in place, and the way forward. I'll be with you until the end of the road, until that light goes out. That's my promise to you." He squeezed Koumyou's ring in his palm for a moment, feeling the friction where it rubbed Toudai's ring on his knuckle, then slid it onto Goku's finger. "With this ring, I marry you."

Goku stared at the gold band where it sat flush to his hand, a perfect fit on his finger. Sanzo grasped Goku's hand again, and the chaplain announced:

“Then by the power vested in me by the state of California, I pronounce you married. You may celebrate your union with a kiss.”

Sanzo had no idea which of them leaned in first, only that they met in the middle. Their teeth clicked for a split second, but Goku tilted his head to let Sanzo kiss him full on the mouth, and somehow, Goku ended up hugging Sanzo tight around the waist. Their audience – all the family and friends they cared to have – cheered for them, Gojyo whistling and Koumyou standing to clap a little louder than the rest. Sanzo turned to face them, one arm still around his shoulders, and found himself dumbfounded.

He suddenly had a much better idea of what Goku meant when he said something was “real.” He'd thought he understood before, but everything was suddenly very, very real.

Then, Goku got on tiptoes again and kissed him on the cheek. “How about that future, yeah?” He grinned and tugged Sanzo's hand.

Sanzo followed for the first step, then tugged Goku back and murmured, “I'm more interested in forever.” He kissed him again, just one more time – one wedding kiss wasn't nearly enough, and if anyone called him sappy for it, he'd buy a gun and shoot them – and walked down to Koumyou and Toudai. “Dad, Pop.”

“You don't need to...” Toudai wheezed, but took Sanzo's hand again. “We're proud, Son. I'm glad I was here to see this.”

Sanzo's face took heat, and he let Koumyou hug him as Toudai squeezed his hand tight.

Behind them, Goku let Kanzeon Bosatsu muss his hair, as she said, “You didn't thank _me,_ sweetheart.”

“Mama! Of course I'm grateful!” He hugged onto her tight and squeezed, and she chuckled and patted his back as he rubbed his forehead against her shoulder. “Thank you, thank you, thank you...”

“No. Thank you.” She bowed to kiss the back of his head. “I'm grateful I had the chance to meet you. I'm thankful I was the one to raise you, and that I saw you this far. I'll watch you and your Kouryuu, as far as I can watch you go...”

Hakkai cleared his throat. “Begging everyone's pardon?” Gojyo chuckled into his hand beside him, as Hakkai, a hand raised, motioned to the back of the room. “We've been asked to let others use this room, but there is a box of cupcakes at the nurse's station in the ICU for those who would care to enjoy such treats.”

“Ooh!” Goku bounded for the door, already leading the way. “What kinds?”

Hakkai laughed. “Chocolate with hazelnut frosting, lemon lavender, and plain vanilla. I've also got an unfrosted, low-sugar chocolate cake for a certain someone who may want a treat later.” Sanzo knew he owed Hakkai for that later as he gripped the handles of Toudai's chair and pushed him for the door. The heart monitor beeped just a little faster, as Toudai tugged Sanzo's sleeve.

“Let Koumyou take me back. Go with your friends and husband.”

Without waiting, Koumyou eased Sanzo's hands off, catching and holding his gaze. “They'll be getting him ready soon. I'll come and join you shortly.”

Sanzo stopped in place as Koumyou guided Toudai away, as the rest of the room emptied out behind him. For a moment, he was alone. Then, Goku ran back and grabbed his hand.

“Come on! Cupcakes!” He led him forward, beaming. “Let's go, before I gotta give you a good kick in the butt! That's the Sanzo family way, isn't it?!”

Despite it all, Sanzo was sure he'd never laughed harder in his life.

Sanzo spent the afternoon with the people he and Goku called friends, eating cupcakes and talking. Gojyo made Sanzo look at the two-month photoshoot his brother had done of his baby daughter (and though Sanzo hadn't fathomed that one could take so many pictures of a wiggly pink lump with a button nose and pouting mouth, he pored over every single one), Kanzeon Bosatsu brought out a deck of cards and engaged everyone in a few rounds of poker. Koumyou joined them after a little while, without a word to Sanzo about Toudai's status, and promptly began to thrash everyone in the room at poker. Sanzo didn't bother to ask, but as the afternoon wore on, the conversation somehow turned back to the wedding:

“Jeez, I can't read you at all,” Gojyo chuckled as Koumyou raked in the pile of Styrofoam cup pieces they were using as chips. “You got one hell of a poker face – actually, I gotta ask, did you know Sanzo there had forgotten about the wedding rings the whole time?”

Sanzo flushed hot again, ducking his head down though Goku rubbed his hand from around the arm of the waiting room chair. Koumyou giggled through his nose. “Kouryuu has never been one for souvenirs or mementos, merely logistics. I'd had a feeling he'd forget about a small trinket like that, and while I knew it wouldn't be especially important to him, I knew it would be important to _them_.” He scooped the cards in and shuffled. “I'll deal this round, Kanny.”

“Whatever you want.” Kanzeon chuckled, and winked at Sanzo. “I remember when the two of you first traded those rings.”

"You were at their wedding, Mama?" Goku looked admiringly at the ring he now wore, then back to Koumyou. "Must'a been a while ago, I can see all the little scuffs and nicks on it."

"It wasn't a wedding ring, then." Koumyou chuckled, not lifting his eyes from shuffling the deck. “It was a promise ring. A promise that Toudai and I would be ourselves and together from then on." 

“Their marriage would have been illegal. Their relationship was still illegal in a more than a few states,” Kanzeon added. Nataku, who'd been absorbed in his textbook, clicked his tongue, and Goku hung his head. Koumyou, however, shrugged it off.

“An unfortunate reality, but we lived it. After Toudai's wife-for-show was caught with her lover and the two of them divorced, we decided to live less in the shadows.” Koumyou dealt around, and Sanzo noticed that he kept his eyes low. “He selected a ring for me, I chose one for him, and we exchanged them in a private ceremony with friends.”

“And then everyone has to wonder who that pretty girl in the flower-child dress is hanging off of Toudai Sanzo's arm,” Kanzeon chuckled, and Goku whipped around, eyebrows raised.

“Dress?” His face split in a grin. “You cross-dressed?”

“Gracious, no; I presented as a woman.” Koumyou shrugged, smiling nonchalantly and sitting back as he finished dealing. “I've never especially cared about how I was perceived, or how I presented. I don't consider myself especially masculine or feminine. Some days, I rather miss skirts.”

Goku beamed with glee, barely even looking at his cards as Gojyo and Hakkai organized their hands and Sanzo, his cheeks still warm, sussed out his odds, trying not to look up. “I didn't know!”

“It's never come up,” Koumyou demurred and waved a hand. “I'm content with people seeing me however they want to see me. More importantly, I could be seen with my partner.” He pinked a little, and Gojyo chuckled.

“Guess that explains the long hair. I just figured you were a hippie.”

“Oh, goodness!” Koumyou giggled. “No, it was shorter then, I've grown it out since! I used to do this cute little half-ponytail.” He flipped his hair, then winked at Gojyo. “I must ask then, why is your hair long?”

Gojyo snickered. “'Cause I'm a punk. Nah, I'm down, old man. Also, I'll stay.” He kept his cards close to his chest, as Hakkai considered his with a hum and nudged a chip in.

“Raise. Did anyone say anything about your rings?”

“They're such a small thing; most don't notice them. We made no secret of the fact that we were partners, dedicated to one another, but so few asked.” Koumyou laughed through his nose again. “It simply was.”

“It's not like you weren't obvious,” Sanzo muttered. “They were the worst about the PDA when I was a kid, and whenever questioned, they always felt the need to prove it.”

“Why, Kouryuu, bite your tongue!” Koumyou gave his knee a little slap, and looked to the others. “You see, the rings started as a promise ring, but every time another avenue became available, we took it.”

“We flew to Vermont a week after civil unions became legal,” Sanzo muttered, looking his cards over but remembering his first time on an airplane. Koumyou nudged his arm.

“Oh, so you remember our first wedding?”

“Barely. I think I was hardly eight then, but you've told me the damn story a million times!” Sanzo barked a short laugh. “I know that was my first time flying. I've hated it ever since.”

“Well.” Koumyou snorted and adjusted his hips against his chair. “Three years later, Massachusetts legalized same-sex marriage, so we had our civil union converted and exchanged rings again. Do you remember Boston, Kouryuu?”

“I do.” Sanzo nudged Goku's leg with his knee. “I remember the godawful roads, and that Koumyou drove the entire time. That was the weekend I learned the word 'fuck.' Emphatically.”

Gojyo laughed until he ran out of breath, and even Hakkai had to nearly stuff his sleeve into his mouth. Koumyou had the grace to pretend to look put out, but tossed his head back proudly. “And yet I persevered through those horrible, nonsensical roads to ensure I was married to my husband.”

Kanzeon laughed through her nose and pushed a few of her chips in. “And then California legalized it, and you had to get one more conversion." She winked at Sanzo. "I was at that one, sweetie, though I couldn't stay for the party so I didn't get a chance to talk to you.”

“I don't remember seeing you,” Sanzo muttered, bowing his head into the long shadows that had stretched over the room as the afternoon wore on. He had been a teenager at his very surliest, but they'd still asked him to be ring bearer, and he remembered ducking everyone's gazes as he carried their rings to them. “I remember... how happy you two were.”

Koumyou had glowed with joy when Toudai had put his ring on. Every shadow that lived in Toudai's face had vanished when Koumyou had put the ring on him. The Koumyou before him still smiled, but now Sanzo found himself acutely aware of Koumyou's every wrinkle, and the strain in his smile that wore on the longer he and Toudai were apart. Koumyou, however, beamed at Sanzo.

“We were. When we were finally able to call ourselves married in the place we called home, it was a huge relief. Certainly, we were stymied for five years thanks to that idiotic Proposition 8, but we fought that tooth and nail. Our forever was worth fighting for.” Koumyou finally put the cards down, as if he'd been looking at his at all, and for the first time in his entire life, Sanzo realized his father was wilting. Twenty-five years of being the reed in the breeze, turning so easily with every gust of wind, and now, only now, was he showing even the first sign of exhaustion from twisting in the wind. Koumyou twisted his hands together, still smiling, but it was the wan smile of a waning moon. “Those rings were that initial promise to fight for our love, and they've come on that journey with us. Now, they can continue it with you.”

Sanzo leaned over and steadied Koumyou by the shoulder, the way Toudai would so-subtly reassure him. As a comrade. As a partner. His grip was stronger than Toudai's now, and Koumyou looked up with surprise, and Sanzo gently intoned in the same soft voice Koumyou always used on him: “The journey does continue, though.”

Koumyou raised both eyebrows, then smiled wearily and slung his arm around Sanzo's shoulder. “It does, dearest.”

Just then, there was a knock at the waiting room door, and everyone in the room turned to see a nurse waiting with a clipboard in hand. “Mister Sanzo?”

Sanzo, Koumyou, and Goku each answered, “Yes?”

And Sanzo gave Goku's knee a light whack. “You said you weren't changing your name.”

Goku giggled. “Yeah, but people might assume anyway, so if someone says Mister Sanzo, they might mean me now.”

“All three of you,” the nurse answered, though even she couldn't suppress a smile. That made something in Sanzo spark, and he, Koumyou, and Goku all went to follow her. She took them to a private alcove and turned a page on her notepad. “Toudai is in recovery now. Doctor Magnusson asked me to communicate to you that he did discover fungal growth in his alveoli. However, with the proper treatment, the fungus can be cleared, and he was able to perform a sample scrape on the fungus and determine--”

“Miss?” Goku raised a hand. “Um, I'm not gettin' any of this. Please say just say the part I need to hear and tell Mister Koumyou all the complicated stuff.”

The nurse paused, as Sanzo mussed Goku's hair, but she smiled, shook her head and said, “With a week-long inpatient vapor treatment and some ongoing care, barring any further complications, Toudai should be able to make a full recovery. He's woken up and though he's still intubated, he has written three notes asking to see his husband and children.”

“Yes!” Koumyou bounded off of his heels, and Goku caught him around the chest in a hug.

“He's gonna be okay!”

Even Sanzo found himself in the spirit when Goku grabbed him by the arm and yanked him into the hug. This moment couldn't last, he knew this for sure, but he was completely alright with enjoying this one for as long as he could.

* * *

Toudai's heart monitor beat strong and steady, setting a sprightly but even pace. It was the last machine attached to him as his doctor put together the paperwork for the final go-ahead for him to be released. Sanzo and Goku worked around him to pack his belongings and make sure anything of theirs had been removed. Sanzo had found most of the clothes Koumyou had left and was tucking them into a duffel bag, as Goku made to find their spare clothes, working around Toudai still watching them from the bed, looking oddly content. When Goku ducked under Toudai's bed to check for socks and comic books, he came back up (comic books and plenty of mismatched socks in hand) just as Toudai reached out to pat his head.

“Son, you're being a big help.” He smiled broadly, then mussed his hair. “Thank you for everything.”

“Jeez.” Goku grinned toothily and hugged the stuff in his hands tight. “It's fine, Pop, I'm just happy we're taking you home today.”

“I'll be glad to be getting home, too.” Toudai heaved a wistful sigh. “I'll just be sad to see less of your smiling face.”

“Aw, it's okay! We're gonna visit a lot! Sanzo already said we were gonna help you with your PT and help around the house—”

“Oh, no, no, no, you don't have to do any of that!” Toudai sat up and crossed his arms, trying to look stern. Sanzo, too, whipped around from packing up the shirts Koumyou had left in one of the drawers.

“And you didn't have to tell him.” He shoved the shirts into Koumyou's duffel and took the armful of things Goku had and dropped them into a paper sack he'd brought. “Go ahead and take this out to the car.”

“You got it, Sanzo!” Goku grabbed the paper bag and hustled out, and Toudai clicked his tongue from the bed.

“He still calls you by your family name, and yet you answer to it. I suppose that makes you the truest member of the Sanzo family, is that it?”

Sanzo snorted. “He knows I prefer it. He'll call me Kouryuu in private or when talking to Dad. That's fine.”

“Well.” Toudai resettled himself in the bed, heaving himself up as much as possible. “I'm just glad he calls me Pop. I've got two wonderful sons out of this excursion, and damn all the details in between.”

Sanzo wanted to ask about Nii, but he knew Toudai hated stupid questions as much as he did. “I noticed you're not giving me shit for rushing.”

“Bah, that boy was my son long before you put that ring on his finger.” Toudai snorted, looking too proud. Sanzo ran his thumb over Toudai's ring where it sat on his finger, skin-warm and still just a little loose.

“You want your rings back?” He traced the rim of the ring with his thumb, and Toudai scoffed.

“No, it's yours now. Nothing will change that your father and I are married. Besides, it's been tight for far too long. Look.” He held his left hand out. “The engraving is scarred into my finger.”

Sanzo leaned in to see what looked like a risen indentation of obverse words at the base of his finger. “I didn't realize it was engraved.”

“Both of our rings are.” Toudai smiled and turned his hand so he could see that the writing wrapped all the way around his finger. “We each chose an inscription for the other on the inside of the band, a secret message. Lots of things about our relationship were secret early on.”

“Huh.” Sanzo furrowed his brow. “I can't read it.”

“It's inside out, boy. But I know what it says.” Toudai turned his hand towards himself. “'I carry your heart with me. (i carry it in my heart.)” He closed his hand and rubbed the raised bumps on his finger with his thumb. “It's an E.E. Cummings poem. I had stationery with that poem on it when your father and I corresponded. It must have stuck with him.”

“And his?” Sanzo had to know what he'd just put on Goku's finger. Toudai snorted and glanced away.

“A sample from the Heart Sutra in the original Sanskrit. He's Buddhist, I thought it was romantic.”

Sanzo furrowed his brow. “What does it translate to?”

“'Because there is no obstruction, there is no fear.' The entire sutra is about how all is nothing, nothing is all – that nihilist such and such that I never quite got into.” Toudai rubbed his head. “Nii loved it when he heard that was what I'd picked, but your father loved it because I chose it.”

“No obstruction, no fear,” Sanzo repeated. “At least you lucked out and chose a good line. It could have been the part about nothing. Or the other part about nothing. Or--”

“Hey there, boss!” Sanzo shuddered when he realized Gojyo had swung in the door frame with a wheelchair, and now stood cracking his knuckles. “I hear tell a certain _someone_ 's goin' home and needs a hand from the strongest guy he knows to get into his chair!”

“Thank goodness, someone who won't have cold hands. Kouryuu, go let Koumyou know our escort is here.” Toudai waved him off, and Gojyo briefly patted Sanzo's back as he passed.

Sanzo let him get away with it.

Goku was talking to Koumyou in the hall, and Sanzo noticed that he had his ring off in his palm – Koumyou was very likely pointing out the Sanskrit engraving on the inside. However, Koumyou tapped Goku's hand and said something, and Goku quickly slid his ring back into place, securing it in place. Koumyou addressed Sanzo as he came close, “I take it Gojyo and Hakkai are here?”

“I saw Gojyo, at least.” Sanzo shrugged. “So, he wanted Gojyo to get him in the chair instead of the orderlies?”

“He knows Gojyo, dear, and Gojyo does have a good bit of muscle on him. I imagine Hakkai is waiting with our car in the pickup loop to avoid paying for parking, the dear prudent thing.” Koumyou giggled a bit, and nudged Goku towards Sanzo. “Let me see if they need any help. Toudai may need a bit of help dressing, and while Gojyo is good for lifting, he may not be welcome for that bit.” He hustled back towards Toudai's room, leaving Goku and Sanzo in the hall. Goku immediately grabbed onto Sanzo's hand with both of his and turned his palm over.

“Don't yank on me.” Sanzo took his ring off and tilted it so that Goku could see the inside. “I carry your heart in my heart. That's what it says.” He slid it back on. Goku nodded, but he closed his fingers tight around his ring.

“Fear nothing. All is nothing, so fear nothing.”

The more Sanzo heard the phrases, the more he understood. “Toudai said we could keep them.”

Goku nodded. “I want to. This way, we'll have something to remember them by.”

“Hmph.” Sanzo gave Goku a light knock on the forehead. “They're still here. They won't let us forget them.” Then, he pulled Goku's head in and kissed it. “We won't have them forever, but we can make more memories first.”

“Yeah.” Goku kissed Sanzo's chest, right at the sternum. “Do you think we can make some other memories, too? Like, a wedding dinner with all our friends? Or some just-us memories, like a honeymoon?”

“Always remembering the important things.” Sanzo slid his hand into Goku's, guiding him to walk side-by-side with him. “We'll see what the future brings.”

Koumyou stood by, as Gojyo was easing Toudai, dressed in slacks and suspenders that were a size loose from the sickness and lean hospital food, into his chair. Toudai was tugging the collar of his tee to keep him close, and Sanzo caught the end of what he was saying. “... don't you dare forget! I still can't believe Kouryuu got away with it...”

“Don't worry, boss, I'm on it!” Gojyo laughed and stepped back as Toudai adjusted his hips in the seat. “I bought it after the big graduation rush at the garage. I got it in my jacket pocket in case I decide I can't wait for you to be done with me.”

“Oh, no.” Toudai twisted around and glowered at Gojyo as he stepped back. “You've had me and Sharak eating aspirin like candy, you asked to learn puff pastry, you're going to learn puff pastry if it kills me.”

Koumyou sighed. “Darling, I'll ask you to mind your phrasing.” With that, he removed the heart monitor clip from Toudai's middle finger, and the steady chirp that had filled the room went completely silent.

Toudai, admonished, shrunk, then turned all the way around in his chair as Koumyou came forward to take hold of the chair. “I didn't mean it, my dear.” Then, he noticed Sanzo. “There you are, is the car packed?”

“Everything but the people.” Sanzo stepped out of the doorway, keeping his hand in Goku's. “You got the chair?”

“I've got my husband if you've got yours.” Koumyou patted the handles on the chair as Toudai snorted and rolled his eyes, and Goku nudged Sanzo's side with his elbow. Sanzo lightly jabbed him back.

“Then let's get the hell out of here.” He waited for Koumyou to pass with Toudai in tow and let Gojyo pass by too (not missing the little smirk Gojyo threw him and making a mental note to pay him back for it later), then turned to follow. He didn't let go of Goku's hand, not for a moment, as they walked from the inside of the hospital to the doors, all together.

The serene silence of Toudai's contented smile as he emerged into the sun from the ICU was like a symphonic movement to Sanzo.

If Sanzo were the type to meditate, he might have arrived at the following: Life and death would march on and forward, and there would be new things to hope for, new dreams to chase, greetings and farewells, countless new memories. This moment wouldn't last, just like the grip of Toudai's hand, boyhood experiences, his own life, even the deep engraving on his ring might someday erode away. Such things didn't need to endure; to have them at all was enough, even for the scant moment such things lasted.

Emerging into the bright light, into a new day, into the rest of forever with his friends and family before him and Goku at his side, that was enough to remind Sanzo of that. Nothing had changed, and yet everything had and would.

Sanzo was at peace with that. It made the burden he did have to carry feel light, especially because – as the touch of Goku's hand in his reminded him – it was a burden shared, and a journey they would take together, for however far the road went.


End file.
